


Lose Control

by SerenityTWD



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 56,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4489119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityTWD/pseuds/SerenityTWD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his 18th birthday bash, William "Spike" Giles finds out some shocking news about his future and the sexy blonde that seduced him on the dance floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Spike awoke, pain shooting down the side of his neck, radiating fiercely. He looked around the bedroom, unsure of how he had made it home from the Bronze the night before. Removing the tangled, sweat soaked sheets that had twisted themselves around his naked body, he emerged from his bed. All of the sudden he felt faint, darkness swam before his eyes and he quickly reached out to grasp the edge of his desk. 

After several deep breaths, he felt stable enough to continue towards the bathroom. Spike flipped on the lights, wincing at the brightness in the stark white room; once his eyes adjusted, he gasped at his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles shadowed his normally bright blue eyes, his face appeared gaunt and his skin was disturbingly pasty. He grimaced, thinking to himself that he really could not afford to get sick right now. His neck was searing in pain, turning it slightly, he caught sight of the mark that appeared. 

“What the fuck?” he asked himself, quietly. Grasping the edge of the sink tightly, Spike bowed his head and desperately tried to remember the night before.

*************

He had been standing near the bar at the Bronze, waiting for his friends to arrive, when he had first seen her. Unable to take his eyes off of her, he had watched her sway seductively to the music. Long golden hair swirled around her bare shoulders; a tiny swatch of fabric barely covered her breasts, which bounced to the beat of the music. Letting his gaze lower, taking in the flat, taut muscles of her bare midsection; her belly button rested just above the red leather of her tight pants. 

Bravely, he let his eyes wander back towards her face and was shocked to find her staring back at him. Gleaming pools of emerald hypnotized him, pulling him towards her. Unconsciously, he weaved through the mass of writhing bodies until he was wrapped in her arms, hips grinding together as the beat of the music filled their bodies. 

Time seemed to pass slowly, as though the outside world had vanished and they were the only two that remained. Her rich, sweet scent was intoxicating; assaulting his senses until his head was swimming with desire. He felt as though he had been drugged, he was completely under this vixen’s control. His heart beat loudly as she wound her hands around his neck, pulling him closer as she traced his jugular with the tip of her tongue. Nibbling and nipping, she made her way upwards to his eager lips, licking briefly before plunging her tongue deep inside, devouring him. 

He grew hard when as she eased her cool hands under his shirt, caressing the heated skin of his back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought it odd that her hands were so cold while his own skin was overheating. All reasonable thought flew out of his head as she went back to licking along his jaw line, moving down towards his neck. His hands were tangled in her hair as he held on to her, moaning in ecstasy as her own tiny hand fondled his cock through his jeans. 

Buffy smirked to herself, reveling in the fact that this one was so easy to ensnare. She traced lazy circles with her tongue along his jugular, before the bones in her face transformed, allowing her demon to emerge and plunging her fangs deep inside his throat. She sighed inwardly at the first delicious, metallic taste of his rich blood as it pulsated into her eager mouth, her body tingling with desire. 

She moaned sensuously, relishing the taste of his powerful blood. Moisture pooled between her thighs as she took one final pull before licking any stray droplets from her lips. Originally, her plan had been to drain the blonde boy dry and toss him aside like so many others before him. 

He was vaguely aware that she had pulled away from the embrace. Slightly disoriented, he stared with heavy lids into her lust filled eyes. Before he was able to form any coherent phrases, she pressed one finger against his lips.

“Shhh…” she ordered, licking her lips slowly. Easing up onto her tiptoes, Buffy licked the outer rim of his ear. He closed his eyes as waves of pleasure coursed through his body. “You’re pretty tasty, Slayer, “she whispered lightly, her breath warm against his skin, tickling his ear. “Think I’ll play with you a bit longer.” 

He swayed slightly, disoriented from the blood loss. When he had opened his eyes a brief moment later, she had disappeared from sight. Confused and fatigued, he had stumbled from the club and headed home, forgetting about the previous plans he had made with his friends.

**********

Spike leaned his head against the cool glass of the mirror, his head swimming. His cock was throbbing painfully, her curvy body and smooth skin floating through his mind. Taking his swollen member into his hand, Spike swirled his thumb swirled around the head, using the pre-cum as a lubricant he stroked his hardened length rapidly. Spike closed his eyes, imagining that he was fucking her, plunging deep inside her hot, tight pussy. Pumping faster, he felt his release approaching. Gripping the edge of the sink, he roared his release as he shot thick strands of cum into the basin. 

After quickly cleaning up the mess, Spike took a shower, standing under the scalding hot water until it turned cold. Shivering, he emerged and continued getting ready for school; groaning when he realized that explaining his neck wound to his father would be rather difficult. 

Realizing his father had already left for work; Spike grabbed his backpack and headed in the direction of Sunnydale High.


	2. Chapter 2

Dread filled Spike’s stomach as he neared his new high school, not because he had missed his first period, but because he would first have to find his father and get a pass for his absence. His father, Rupert Giles, had taken a job with the school as librarian shortly after his wife and Spike’s mother, Anne had passed. 

Desperately needing a change of scenery, Rupert had decided to move to California from England. Months had flown by since their arrival, summer heat fading into cooler fall nights and Spike was finally beginning to adjust to his new surroundings. After spending many weeks holed up in his room, reading poetry and generally annoying his father, he met several students at the local coffee house. The group had closed down the tiny shop, hopped up on caffeine, chatting nonstop about everything and yet nothing at all. Since then, they had grown close and Spike spent most of his free time with Angel, Cordelia, Winifred and Charles. 

Navigating his way through the quiet halls, he made his way towards the library, his heart heavy with dread and despair over the previous night’s events. Pushing open the heavy oak doors, Spike was instantly greeted with a foul glare from his father. Groaning inwardly, he instinctively reached up to touch the band aid that he had carefully applied in order to cover the strange bite marks the mysterious girl had made and prayed that his father would not notice. 

Glancing past his father’s obvious unpleasant demeanor, Spike noticed another man dressed in tweed perched near the research tables. 

“G’Morning, father.” He said, timidly. “Sorry ‘bout this morning, I didn’t mean to oversleep.”

Rupert cocked his eyebrow at his only child, deciding to discuss family matters at home instead of in front of a guest. He had heard his son stumble up the stairs last night and had deduced that his eighteenth birthday celebration had gotten a bit out of hand. Normally, he would have frowned on a school night excursion, but seeing that it was a special circumstance he had caved; secretly pleased that his sullen child had finally made some friends. Patting him on the back, Rupert ushered him forward, noticing the band aid on his neck.

“Quiet all right, son, just make sure it doesn’t become a regular habit.” Rupert instructed, motioning with his hand towards the man across the room. “William, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, he’s currently been reassigned to Sunnydale on official business and apparently is looking for you.”

“Father…”Spike started, grimacing at the use of his given name. “I prefer to go by Spike now, remember?” Knowing his newly appointed nickname would thoroughly annoy his father, he snickered when Rupert pinched the bridge of his nose as if fending off an impending headache. “Anyway, what sort of official business would I be involved in?”

Rupert opened his mouth, but quickly shut it when he realized that he had no clue as to how he should approach the rather confounding topic. Gesturing to Mr. Wyndam-Price, he motioned for the guest to take the floor.

“Right, well then…William, I am with the Council of Watchers and have been appointed as your official watcher. It is interesting that anyone as old as you would be called as a slayer; in fact it is rather unheard of.” Wesley paused briefly, still unsure of himself as a watcher seeing as this was his first charge. Noticing the blank look of confusion marring William’s face, he blushed at his mistake, forgetting that they knew nothing of vampire lore. “I apologize; I believe that I have managed to get ahead of myself. Please, if you both would take a seat, there is much to explain.”

After the British man stopped babbling, Spike stared at him in disbelief, still unsure as to what his role in the situation was; much less the fact that vampires and demons were filtered throughout the world, stalking and feeding on humankind. His mind flashed to the blonde beauty who seduced him last night, unconsciously raising his hand to caress the bite mark she had left on his jugular. Fright and shame filled him when he realized that the sexy siren was a vampire. Swallowing his pride, he removed the covering and revealed the mark to his father and his new watcher. “Um…might this be the mark of a vampire?”

“Oh dear Lord.’ His father muttered, instinctively reached up to remove his glasses so that he could polish them vigorously. “Where on earth did that come from?” 

A red flush crept up Spike’s face, seriously not wanting to explain what had happened the night before. Taking a deep breath, he started his tale, deciding to carefully edit out the more sordid details. “Well, last night at the Bronze….”

When his son finished speaking, hands still fidgeting in his lap, Rupert was shocked. “You mean to tell me that not only did you willingly allow a bloody vampire bite you, but she knew that you were the slayer?” Looking sharply at Wesley, he asked “Is that possible?”

“Actually, yes, it is quite possible. It is well known that a slayer’s blood is extremely powerful; their ability to heal rapidly would be proof of that.” Wesley affirmed, a look of concern marring his face. “Would you mind describing this creature to me once more?”

“Hmm…I would go with petite, curvaceous, blonde, angelic features, sexy as hell. That about sums her up. Although, I have no idea how to explain the power she had over me, it was as if I had no control.”

“Oh dear.” Wesley uttered, “I…I need to do further investigation on the matter, but based on your description and her ability to use thrall over an individual, which I might add is very rare, I believe you have had an encounter with a vampire named Buffy.” Pausing to glare at William, who had erupted in a fit of giggles at the silly name, he continued, “Do not let her name fool you, William. I have read numerous tales about Buffy. From the volumes of material the council holds on her, I believe she is over one hundred and twenty five years old, extremely vicious, and very powerful for her size. Brief history of Buffy, she was turned by a vampire named Willow around 1880 in Virginia, both of who travel around the world with Willow’s sire, who goes by the name Xander. Their history has been quite brutal and bloody, known as the trois de la mort, or trio of death, they have left thousands of bodies across many countries. In fact, the only confusing factor in your encounter is that she left you alive knowing full well who you are, since Buffy is the only known vampire to kill two slayers. “

Wesley continued to fill his charge in on the details of his training, setting up a schedule and diligently passing out reading material. Afterwards, he had left father and son sitting in silence, letting the surprising information settle. He could tell William, or Spike as he preferred to be called, was having a difficult time adjusting to this disruption in his life and knew it would take some time for both Spike and his father to acclimate. Wesley silently prayed that they were all mistaken and the mysterious blonde vampire was not Buffy, the thought of his untrained slayer taking on such a ruthless killer was frightening.

 

Across town in an abandoned mansion on Crawford Street, a sleepy vampire stretched her limbs and snuggled closer to the body resting beside her. Blonde hair mingled with red as they nuzzled one another’s necks, alternating between licking and nibbling; their motions becoming more frenzied. 

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy arched her back, pressing herself firmly into Willow’s embrace; the redhead was sensuously licking and nipping at Buffy’s breast, pulling the rosy peak into her warm mouth. Fisting the red silk sheets in her hands, Buffy cried out in ecstasy when Willow simultaneously thrust two fingers into her pussy and lightly bit down on the pert nipple with blunt human teeth. She tried desperately to keep her eyes wide open, knowing that her fiery lover enjoyed being able to stare into them, but the delicious pains and tingles were making it difficult. She sighed in pleasure as Willow’s talented tongue glided down her flat belly, tracing along the sculpted muscles, before reaching the neatly trimmed curls between her quivering thighs. Buffy forced her eyes open, glancing down to stare into Willow’s as the redhead teasingly flicked her tongue against Buffy’s sensitive nub. Buffy’s hips bucked as sensuous shivers of excitement raced through her body; her eyes rolled back into her head.

As Willow delved her tongue deeper inside, she pinched and rubbed at Buffy’s clit, causing the curvy blonde to moan and writhe on the bed. Willow grinned as Buffy opened her legs wider, allowing her better access to her lover’s dripping pussy. Pulling back momentarily, she deeply inhaled the sweet scent from between Buffy’s toned thighs; darting her tongue out, she licked the juices from her lips before dipping her head down and suckling on Buffy’s sensitive nub. Relishing in the uncontrollable jerks from Buffy’s hips, knowing that she was driving the tiny blonde mad with passion, Willow eased her fingers back inside the heated cavern. Curling her fingers forward slightly, she was able to locate the bundle of nerves and began massaging the sensitive area while continuing to lick and suckle at Buffy’s clit.

Buffy was in heaven, or as close to it as she would ever be. Her body was flushed with excitement; warm tingles flowed over her lower regions as Willow’s tongue lavished attention on her clit. Eyes closed tightly, on the verge of orgasm, Buffy fought the desire to close her legs as the petite redhead licked and nipped vigorously. Just as she was about to come, a cool sensation wafted over her aching pussy and the glorious pressure left her center. Realizing that Willow had stopped, Buffy whimpered and writhed on the bed, begging for her lover’s attention. Opening her eyes, she noticed that Willow’s attention had been averted to Xander, who had apparently arrived to their room with enough time to disrobe and become obviously excited. Without a second thought, the redhead crawled to the foot of the bed and kissed her way up Xander’s chest to his mouth, devouring it hungrily.

A scowl crossed the lovely features of the tiny blonde as she huffed impatiently, wanting desperately to be back in Willow’s embrace and to achieve release. Her core ached with desire, moisture had pooled beneath her, leaving a dampened spot on the sheets. Glancing back down to the entwined couple, Buffy let her hand wander down her body to fall between her thighs. As she watched them passionately embrace, Buffy eased a finger into herself, pulling in and out slowly while rubbing her clit with her other hand. Her moans must have become a distraction, because the attractive couple pulled apart and grinned devilishly before joining her.

Willow kissed Buffy hard and deep, tongues dueled with one another as teeth scraped against teeth, before easing back down her luscious body to settle back between her thighs. Pushing her ass backwards, she motioned for Xander to join them. Grabbing her hips forcefully, Xander teased her entrance with his hardened cock, only thrusting his way inside her pussy when she pushed back into him, impatiently. 

Buffy gazed into Xander’s eyes as he pounded into Willow, whose tongue and fingers were fucking her into oblivion. As waves of pleasure began to slowly inch their way through her nether region, Buffy grasp a hold to the bars of the wrought iron headboard. 

Her moans gave way to screams, her body quivered with passion as her orgasm burst; sending her mind spiraling with pleasure. Somewhere in the far corner of her brain, she heard screams. Opening her eyes, she watched as Willow arched her back while Xander roared his release, tightly holding onto her tiny waist as he shot thick ropes of cum deep inside her womb. On his last thrust, Xander pushed Willow forward, sending her sprawling atop of Buffy. 

After a brief moment, the three rearranged themselves, lounging on the disarrayed sheets as they waited for the sun to set.

************

Spike strolled into the coffee shop just as the sun was setting. He had arranged to meet Angel there to discuss what had happened to him since last night. Ordering a cup of coffee, black, he found a secluded booth and eased into it while he waited. About a half of cup later, Angel plopped down beside him, having a bit of trouble trying to settle his hulking frame into the small booth.

“Hey man.” Angel began, motioning for the waitress to come over. “What happened to you last night? One minute we saw you dancing with one helluva hot blonde, then you like disappeared.” He paused for a moment, ordering a cappuccino from the curvaceous brunette in a pink apron. “So, you get lucky or what?”

Spike grimaced and turned his head so his friend could see his neck. “I wouldn’t exactly call it lucky.”

“No way, that blonde chick was a vamp!” Angel replied, astonished.

“Wait a bloody minute, mate!” Spike started, outraged. “You know about vampires?”

“Well, yeah. Anyone that lives in SunnyHELL knows about the bloodsuckers! Don’t talk about it much, but with all the blood drained bodies lying around, what other excuse would there be.” Angel paused again, accepting the steaming cup from the waitress. “There are rules to living in this town,” he explained, counting them with his fingers, “Don’t go out alone after dark, don’t invite strangers into your home and always be wary of the pale people!”


	4. Chapter 4

Buffy paused before knocking on the door of 1630 Revello Dr, taking a moment to smooth down the front of her floral print sundress. She had grimaced and pouted when Willow had handed the monstrosity to her, but knew that in order to gain entrance into the Slayer’s house she had to appear as innocent as possible. Now she stood on the darkened porch, her shiny golden locks slightly curled at the end, pink tinted lip gloss swiped across her plump lips and a pastel frock, hoping that the façade was enough to get past her enemy’s father. Taking a deep, unneeded breath, she raised her hand and soundly knocked on the thick wooden door.

She squinted as the porch light was flipped on; Buffy glanced up to see an older attractive man peeked out the small window on the door. He smiled at her briefly before she heard him unlocking the dead bolt. Buffy sighed in relief, thankful that he had obviously taken her to be just an innocent school girl. 

“Why hello,” he stated, opening the door widely. “May I help you, Miss?”

“Yessir, I’m here to see Spike.” She replied as sweet as possible, staring up at him with doe-like eyes. “My name is Elizabeth.” 

“I apologize, Elizabeth, but Will…er…Spike isn’t home right now.” 

Buffy smiled inside, knowing full well that the Slayer was down town sipping coffee with his friends. Instantly, she played on his fatherly instincts and gave him a crestfallen look, complete with a chin tremble. “Oh. Um…we were suppose to have a study date, I guess he forgot about me.”

“Oh dear! I’m afraid that he left a couple of hours ago to meet some friends at the café.”

Buffy almost felt sorry for the guy, he looked absolutely mortified that his son would blow off his studying plans for a night on the town. “I may have gotten the days confused, it’s my fault. Um…” she started, glancing over her shoulder at the darkened neighborhood, “would it be okay to use your phone? My older sister just dropped me off and I would like to call her instead of walking home.” She stopped briefly to pretend to be shy. “To be honest, I’m scared of the dark.”

She could feel his apprehension as he stood motionless, deciding if she was all right to let into the house. His feelings must have gotten the better of him, as they did with most humans, because he motioned for her to step over the threshold.

“That would be fine, dear. Please come in.” 

“Thank you Mr. Giles, thank you so much!” She gushed as she hurried into the house.

“It’s no problem, and please call me Rupert.”

*********

Spike tossed fitfully in his sleep, images of demons and vampires plagued his normally deep slumber. A cool breeze wafted through the open window, rustling the dark blue curtains. Just outside the house, perched on the overhang outside his window, a tiny figure waited patiently for just the right time to ease into the darkened room.

 _He was in pain, blood dripped down his thigh from a nasty gash given to him by a large, scaly demon with glowing orange eyes. Darting into the moonlit graveyard, he huddled behind a row of bushes and prayed that his assailant would pass by him._

_The minutes passed slowly while he crouched in the shadows. He was about to slide from his sanctuary when he heard the leaves rustle from his back. He stilled, holding his breath. Shivers ran down his neck, his slayer senses warning him of a vampire in the area. Silence surrounded him and he was about to ease out of the shadows and head to the safety of his house when a cool hand touched his bare arm. Gasping he jumped up, wincing in pain, and faced what was behind him._

_He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t. She was a Master Vampire and dangerously close to his injured body. Her lithe frame was barely concealed beneath a flimsy white shift, which clung to her rounded breasts. He licked his lips in anticipation as she stepped closer, pressing her body to his. Her brilliant green eyes gazed up into his icy blue ones with lust and want. Easing onto her toes, she licked across his lips before sliding her tongue past them and pulling him into a passionate embrace. He groaned into her mouth as he wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, bunching the back of her dress in his hands._

_Her arms went around his neck as they sank to the dew dampened grass. At this moment, he felt no more pain in his leg, only an insistent throbbing from his groin. She pushed him onto his back, straddling him at the waist and grinding her core into his cock. As she hungrily devoured his mouth, her tongue dueling his for control, her long golden locks tickled his skin._

_Pulling away from their embrace, she slid down his body until she was cradled between his denim covered thighs. He closed his eyes and groaned as she eased down his zipper and took his hardened member into her cool hand. She stroked his length teasingly before slipping the satin tip between her moistened lips. Hollowing out her mouth, she suckled his cock, taking it deeper into her mouth. Pulling back, she sucked while pumping her small fist up and down on his shaft. He moaned and writhed beneath his blonde seductress, fisting the dampened grass in his hands. She massaged and cradled his balls in her palm, eliciting cries of pleasure from deep within his shaking body. Gently, she squeezed his sensitive sack, relishing in the sounds he was making. His legs stiffened, his orgasm rapidly approaching. His hands shot out, burying themselves in her luscious locks as he pumped his seed into her eagerly awaiting mouth. His roar was deafening as his hips bucked upwards, no longer was he able to control his own functions._

__

Licking his length of any droppings, she glanced up slightly to see his head still thrown back in pleasure. While he was still gasping deeply, trying to catch his breath, she turned her head to the side and eased into her game face. Grinning, she slid her elongated fangs easily into the vein that was pulsating beneath the tender flesh of his thigh. Sparks of electricity rushed through her body as his rich blood pumped into her mouth. He was writhing in ecstasy, the effects of her bite sending him rushing over the edge again. 

Sliding off the bed, Buffy licked her lips, sighing at the delicious taste of blood that coated her mouth. She placed a kiss to the sleeping Slayers mouth before easing across the room and slipping out the window just as quietly as she entered.

“Til next time, my Slayer.” She promised in a barely audible whisper, before jumping to the ground and slipping away into the night. 

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Weeks flew by as Spike concentrated heavily on his slayer training, trying desperately to soak up as much knowledge from the ancient books that Wesley had laden him with, as well as the demanding physical regime he followed daily. Unfortunately, and much to his fathers dismay, his own school performance had been suffering greatly due to the late hours spent patrolling in any one of the numerous graveyards that Sunnydale boasted.

Although his father and his watcher were very impressed with his interest in studying, Spike knew he would be ashamed if they were to ever find out the real reason behind his motivation. After waking up from his inappropriately sexual dream about a certain curvaceous and blonde vampire to find a very painful puncture wound in the exact location that she had bitten him in the dream, Spike had thrown himself into training to make sure that it never happened again. 

It was well into the evening; darkness surrounded him as he crept through Restfield cemetery. Making his way to the center of the creepy cemetery, Spike perched atop one of the sturdier tombstones to wait for the undead to emerge from their slumber. Minutes turned to hours as the time ticked by with out a single grave stirring. His skin was beginning to get the itchy feeling that he had accustomed to not getting into a decent fight while out on patrol. Checking his watch, Spike grimaced as he realized that it was nearing midnight. Since he had school bright and early in the morning, he decided to call it a night. Sliding from his perch, his feet hit the ground with a thud at almost the exact same time a cold wind wafted through the cemetery. He shivered, pulling his black leather duster tighter around him and scanned the darkness for any signs of life, or rather unlife in this case.

Disappointment washed over him as he realized that there was no one there but him. As he walked towards the wrought iron gates, he tried to convince himself that his disappointment was because he hadn’t been able to kill any lurking demons. 

He paused at the entrance, bathed in brightness from the street light dangling above his bleached head, Spike glanced back at the motionless graveyard. For a brief second, he thought he had spotted something or someone in the shadows. Holding his breath, he stilled completely and listened intently for any movement. After a brief moment, he sighed and shook his head one last time in disappointment as a cat darted out from its hiding place in pursuit of prey. Spike turned and left the gloomy final resting place, never noticing the small figure crouched in the shadows.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hidden in the shadows, her blonde locks blowing in the wind, Buffy watched in silence as Spike left the cemetery. He had been on her mind constantly since the night in his bedroom, her thoughts bordering on obsession. She desperately wanted to go after him, fight with him, seduce him…anything, just to be near him. 

It had been weeks since she had drank his potent nectar, leaving Buffy feeling desperate for more. She tried to convince herself that her growing addiction to the Slayer’s rich blood was the reason that he was still alive. Yet, there was a tiny voice at the far recesses of her brain that tried to tell her otherwise. 

“If he is dead, then you can no longer drink from him. That’s why you haven’t added him to your list.” She muttered under her breath, desperately trying to reassure herself. “Plus, stringing the Slayer along is much more fun!” 

Smirking at the barely visible back of Spike, Buffy eased up from behind the crumbling tombstone. Arching her back, she stretched gracefully as she raised her arms high above her head. As the bewitching hour steadily approached, Buffy strolled out of the graveyard and headed towards town in search of food. 

Even though it was only the middle of the week, Sunnydale’s hottest night spot was in full swing. The Bronze boasted a virtual smorgasbord for a peckish vampire with many tasty age ranges to choose from. Tonight, luckily, a local favorite band called The Dingoes Ate My Baby, was playing that pulled in droves of college students. While Buffy generally preferred a younger victim, their blood being sweeter to drink, she had no qualms about dining on a delectable co-ed. 

‘Especially if they scream for me.’ She thought to herself, smiling wickedly as she spotted her unknowing victim.

Crossing the dance floor, Buffy gracefully maneuvered her way through the mass of writhing bodies. Once she reached the bar, Buffy squeezed her tiny frame in behind the handsome male. 

While she did posses the capability to mesmerize her victims to make them willing and ready to do whatever she desired; tonight she decided that the thrill of the hunt was what she craved. The dark haired, boy next door that she had chosen was currently giving his attention to someone else. Bumping into him ever so slightly, she was able to catch his attention. With barely a turn of the head, her prey muttered a pathetic apology before returning to his conversation with the other female. 

Fury raced through her veins, her blood began to boil. ‘How dare he ignore me! She thought, angrily. ‘I will so make him pay for that later! 

Pushing herself as close as possible to him, Buffy lightly brushed her cool hand over the faint black hair of his forearms. Instantly his bare skin was covered in chill bumps and she grinned in triumph as he turned back towards her. Facing her fully, Buffy tossed her hair flirtatiously and smiled sweetly, luring him in with only her feminine wiles. As usual, one glance into her deceptively innocent face had him wrapped around her slender finger. 

Using his shoulder for leverage, Buffy pulled herself up onto her tiptoes and leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go somewhere quiet where we could…” she paused for a brief moment, letting an unneeded breath pass over her luscious lips and blow lightly on the sensitive area just below his lobe. She smiled, triumphantly, as he shivered in excitement, before adding as seductively as possible, “talk.” 

 

Without a second thought, he nodded his head vigorously in agreement; all the while, wrapping his hand firmly around hers and charging for the nearest exit.

In a matter of minutes, she had successfully landed her prey and convinced him to go outside into the darkened alley with her.

‘Men are so easy!’ She thought happily, as she allowed him to press her backside against the brick wall. 

For a moment, Buffy actually had a fleeting desire to fuck him wildly in the dingy alley before feasting on the tantalizing nectar that flowed through his veins. Although his kisses were almost passionate, the fact that he pawed at her clothing with the skill of an inexperienced twelve year old made the decision easy. Pulling his head away from her exposed chest, thanks to the unsightly tear down the front, she only had one more thing to do before draining his body.

Buffy teasingly licked his flushed skin, tracing the tip of her tongue along the faint blue line of his jugular, before whispering into his ear, “What is your name?”

“Parker.” He muttered almost incoherently, “Parker Abrams.”

With one foot barely touching the ground and the other wrapped firmly around his ass, Buffy pulled him closer into her. Fangs now elongated, her usually smooth forehead slightly rippled and gold eyes blazing; she bit down viciously into his rigid neck. Fear jolted through Parker as he realized what was happening, his body beginning to shake and tremble as he unsuccessfully tried to escape.

Buffy was elated! She loved it when they fought, relished in the sweeter taste their fear brought to the blood. She held on tightly, her small frame frighteningly deceptive in determining her strength, until his body began to sink to the grimy concrete. With one final pull on his neck, Buffy released the drained corpse; smiling devilishly as it landed with a splash in a murky puddle. 

As she wiped the lingering blood away from her face, Buffy stared at the wide eyed cadaver and took pride in her work before heading home. She was pleased at the sight of Parker’s previously handsome face now marred with fright, eyes open wide and a silent scream coming from his agape mouth; the final piece de resistance being the smears of blood that painted the now pale flesh around the gaping wound on his neck.

 

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

Spike was seething with rage, as he paced furiously around the room. A few short hours ago he had been awakened by the shrill ring of the telephone and advised by his watcher that a body had been found behind the Bronze. Apparently, one of his schoolmates, Parker, had been lured out of the club and into the alley by an attractive, petite blonde and had never returned. Parker’s friends had grown worried when the house lights came up; signaling that the club was closing, and had went looking for him. Unfortunately, they had located him, minus most of his throat.

Eventually, he had stopped the pacing. His vision had gone red, his mind snapped, sending him into full rampage mode. After his temper had settled slightly, Spike paused and glanced around his bedroom, taking in the destruction. His usually obsessively neat sanctuary was now in shambles; smashed lamps, ripped posters, several pieces of furniture upended.. Now, Spike crouched in the corner, panting heavily as he desperately tried to catch his breath. 

“Nothing but a bleeding ponce is what you are.” He muttered under his breath, “Nothing but a failure.”

As hard as he tried to stop himself, the unwanted tears continued to spill over his thick lashes and trail down his flushed cheeks. After a few minutes, he angrily swiped his face with the back of his hand and vowed to get even with Buffy as soon as the sun set.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Buffy felt sick. Horrible pangs of guilt ached through out every inch of her body. After last night’s meal, she had instantly locked herself in her bedroom and lay under the silk sheets; curled up on her side in the fetal position. For the first time since being turned, she actually felt remorse for killing a person. 

“A fucking happy meal with legs!” She exclaimed, miserably, as she cried into her pillow. “Why should I even care?”

Deep in her lifeless heart, she knew the real reason behind her sorrow was that Spike would be upset with her if he found out. If he knew that it was she that had killed the oversexed juvenile, then he would be furious with her. While Buffy prayed for the Slayer to feel some type of emotion for her, anger was not what she desired. Rolling over, Buffy buried her head under the pillow; sobs wracking her tiny frame.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

As night approached, Spike hauled himself up from the floor and quickly attempted to straighten his room before his father stumbled upon the disaster. Eventually, he had to give up his efforts, realizing that it would take a lot longer than a half hour to repair the damage. 

After a quick shower, he dressed in his usual garb of Doc Marten’s, black jeans and shirt. Using a generous amount of hair gel, he slicked his platinum blonde locks back, desperately trying to tame his unruly curls. 

Opening his weapons chest, Spike prepared for his mission by pocketing two stakes and a flask of holy water. Finally, he grabbed his leather duster and headed to his first stop, the Bronze.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Buffy was rudely awakened by the sound of the heavy wooden door of her bedroom slamming against the wall. Groaning loudly, trying to express that she was not pleased with being disturbed, she rolled over and glared at the intruder. 

Willow was leaning against the doorframe, dressed to kill in black leather pants and a red corset. Licking her lips hungrily, the slender red head crossed the room to Buffy’s bed; crawling up towards her in full on predator mode. Willow straddled Buffy, one leather covered leg on each side of Buffy’s nude ones. 

“Rise and shine,” Willow muttered while nuzzling Buffy’s neck, “Time to go out and play.” 

Buffy tried to protest, desperately voicing her desire to stay at home in bed for the evening. However, Willow wouldn’t take no for an answer; then again, she wasn’t use to having her childe be disagreeable. 

“I fed really early this morning,” Buffy explained; turning her head slightly to the side; praying that the redhead’s furious amber eyes would not detect the grief that filled her own luminous green eyes. “Honestly, I would rather stay in tonight.”

Willow cocked her eyebrow at Buffy, instantly detecting the fear and dishonesty in her lover’s voice. Grabbing Buffy’s wrists, she pinned them down next to her head; trapping a few blonde locks underneath. “Get up and get ready. Don’t make me come back up here.” She warned, menacingly. “Daddy wants to go find a play-pretty and we always do what Daddy says.” 

Buffy’s lip quivered, another fresh wave of tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Unable to speak without her voice wavering, she nodded her head in compliance.

Willow smiled, but her eyes remained cold. “Good girl.” She praised, as she slid from the bed, deliberately pulling the sheets along with her. “Wear something sexy for me, k?” The fiery redhead gave one last look at Buffy, eyeballing her naked form seductively, before turning to leave the room. “You know what I like.”

Defeated, Buffy scampered from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. After a scalding hot shower, she applied her makeup and fixed her hair, completely at ease with out the use of a mirror; she had had many years of experience in grooming without seeing her reflection. With one final application of vanilla lip gloss, she crossed the bedroom and entered the closet in attempts to find something sultry to wear; always eager to please her sire. 

Searching for the right outfit took longer than expected. Clothes were flung from racks, shoes thrown to the floor and Buffy still had no clue as what to wear. The only thing she was sure of was that she did not want to go out tonight. Sighing loudly, Buffy grabbed a dress and boots off the floor and returned back to the bedroom to finish getting ready.

Buffy slipped the slinky red dress over her head, forgoing any underwear due to the thinness of the material. She was busy working on her black thigh high boots, making sure that the laces were done properly, when Willow entered the room and announced it was time to leave.

As the sun retreated behind the trees, a reluctant Buffy followed her sire from the mansion; heading in the direction of their favorite hunting spot, the Bronze.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

Spike entered the darkened club with a determined expression on his face; steely blue eyes scanned the area around him for any signs of the blonde vampire’s presence. 

During his walk to the Bronze, he had begun to have doubts about his mission; figuring that a Master Vampire would surely be able to kill a fledgling Slayer without batting an eye. His final decision had been that even if she killed him tonight, he would do everything in his power to take Buffy with him. 

Now, as he stood beneath the pulsating lights on the dance floor, Spike felt the nagging thoughts of failure, doubt flooding his mind. Was he truly ready to die tonight? 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Buffy lurked in the shadows, hiding from Spike’s furious glare. She didn’t want to be here tonight and desperately wished her sire had not forced her from her sanctuary. 

As she watched him, standing on the dance floor in the midst of gyrating bodies and pulsating lights, Buffy knew deep inside her un-beating heart that Spike intended to kill her tonight. Sliding against the wall, beneath the balcony’s shadows, Buffy sized up her competition, knowing that by sunrise they would fight. By sunrise, the slayer’s crumpled body would be left behind because she was not ready to die again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Spike was shaken from his trance by the sound of his name floating across the booming music. Blinking his eyes several times, he noticed Angel waving his arms from across the dance floor trying to get his attention. Spike nodded his head towards his hulking friend to let Angel know he saw him before winding his way through the throng of writhing bodies.

“Hey! Spike’s here!” Winifred “Fred” Burkle shouted boisterously, her Texan drawl shining through. “Everyone scoot over so that he can sit down!” For someone of such small stature, Fred was very commanding and always got her way.

Once there was enough room to slide in, Spike lowered himself into the black vinyl booth where he was instantly hit with a barrage of questions from his friend Charles Gunn, who preferred to go by his last name.

“Thought you were staying at home tonight?” Gunn inquired, “Wasn’t there some bullshit story about needing to work on your American History paper?” He paused to take a sip of his suspiciously alcoholic drink. “Judging from the look on your face, studying is the last thing on your mind tonight, bro! Hmph…unless getting a piece of ass is called studying now-a-days!” 

Angel was at Spike’s defense in an instant, knowing that the interrogation would be uncomfortable for him. So far, Spike had only told him of his sacred calling as a Slayer. “My guess would be that he’s either taking a break or done with it. Right?”

Spike’s foul mood progressed even further. He hated lying to his friends about what he was doing late into the night. ‘Ah, fuck it!’ He thought to himself, before taking a deep breath and preparing his little speech in his head. “Guy…er…and girl. There’s something you all should know about me.”

When he finished, Spike stared into two very surprised faces; both Fred and Gunn’s mouths hung slack-jawed, their eyes wide with amazement. “So…um…you guys gonna say anything, or were you just planning on staring at me for a bit?”

“Dude, that’s crazy! I mean…I always knew something was way off about Sunnydale, but I haven’t been here that long either. Never quite put two and two together, ya know.” Gunn commented while flagging down the waitress.

“Yeah, after being here for a while you kinda start to overlook all of the unexplained deaths that pile up in extremely high numbers.” Fred interjected, “Is that why you came out tonight? Is there something…out there?” She muttered so lightly that Spike barely heard what she said.

“Yes, pet. There is definitely something lurking out there that I fully intend on getting rid of…tonight.” Spike replied, his voice deepened to almost a growl as his darkened eyes looked out into the club, scanning for a particular target. All of the sudden, their gazes locked; azure stone staring deep into emerald pools. Spike pushed himself up from the booth, not bothering with looking back at his friends. “I’ll see you guys later.This must be taken care of tonight, other lives depend on it.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Buffy was on the dance floor, in the middle to be exact, when his eyes locked with hers. Willow stood behind her, her body grinding against Buffy’s as they both moved in perfect tune with the beat of the music. As she watched the Slayer approach, Buffy could feel the redhead’s hands circle around her waist, effectively pulling her closer; sensing the impending threat that was nearing. 

“Slayer.” Buffy stated when Spike was standing in front of her. They had quit dancing, Willow now glaring over her shoulder, hands still placed firmly around Buffy’s tiny waist.

Spike crossed his arms across his chest, trying to appear threatening, when in all honesty it was to keep his hands from shaking and showing his fear. ‘Shoulda known the bird would be with her sire. Wonder where the other one was…what was his name again?’ Before he could speak, the red head interrupted his chain of thought.

“Mmm….this one looks tasty.” Willow whispered into Buffy’s ear just loud enough for Spike to hear. “Can we keep him?” Staring directly into the Slayer’s eyes, Willow slowly traced her tongue along her childe’s jugular; while caressing the area just below Buffy’s navel, which caused the slinky material of her angled hem to ride up. She smiled as she heard his heart beat speed up, his arousal filled the air around them with a pungent aroma. ‘Pretty play thing wants what’s mine.’ She smiled devilishly as her thoughts raced through her mind. ‘Might be fun to play naughty little games with this one before dinner time." 

Buffy stood there, rooted in place with desire and…oddly enough…fear. She could sense his hatred as well as his arousal, which did not surprise her; every Slayer had a death wish, but also got off on it at the same time. “No, Will. This one is just for me.” Buffy said as she pulled away from her pouting sire. “Shall we take this outside, Slayer?”

“After you.” Spike said, feigning graciousness as he gestured with his arms for her to pass. “Not like I want a soulless bloodsucker following behind me.”

Buffy cringed at his words, the hatred dripping off of them and had to admit...the last comment stung. Holding her head high, she slipped quietly between the mingling bodies and made her way out of the club.

Once outside, they faced one another in the alley. Fighting stances were taken, stakes were drawn. For the first time, Buffy waited for her opponent’s attack; which was a sharp blow to the side of her face, possibly breaking her cheekbone. In an instant, her demon emerged…fangs barred as a deep growl erupted from her throat. She pounced.

Spike prepared for the worst, but prayed for the best. He couldn’t believe that she allowed him to strike first. He had been prepared for an all out assault with out much room for his limited skills. She was lightening fast, claws scrapped at his face; he could feel rivulets of blood stream down his cheeks. Reaching out, Spike grabbed a handful of blonde hair and tossed the tiny vampire across the alley; sending her flying into a pile of crates. For a moment, confidence surged through him until he noticed Buffy laughing at him.

“Almost got lucky, didn’t you.” Buffy sneered, already back on her feet. “Hoping one of these crates would do the nasty job for you? Not gonna happen, Slayer.” With unnatural speed, Buffy crossed the span between them and kicked Spike in the chest; sending him sprawling backwards against the wall, momentarily out of breath. She followed with an assault of punches to the face, breaking his nose and splitting his lower lip.

Spike eased his hands in between them and pushed the tiny vamp away. Now that there was a small amount of space between them, he attacked again. A punch to the face, a knee in the stomach, and finally his hands were around her arm; which he managed to twist until the sickening sound of breaking bones echoed in the alley.

Buffy had had enough. Pain radiated through her body, her arm hung limply at her side. Her vision blurred red with anger; all thoughts of guilt or desire were pushed aside as she leapt upon the beaten Slayer. They fell to the grimy concrete with a thud, her body on top of his. Buffy felt his neck snap back as they landed; his eyes crossed as his vision was blurred with pain. 

Pain screamed inside of his head. His world had gone black as his head bounced off the hard ground. Just as his vision started to return, Spike saw a flash of blonde hair as the vampire moved in for the kill. It was in that moment that he gave up completely.

Buffy felt the Slayer go limp, like the life had left his battered body. She pulled back, never biting into the creamy white skin on his neck. Staring down at the Slayer, face bruised and swollen, she knew that this was not how the night was supposed to go. It was too easy. With her free arm she slapped his face hard hoping to get a response, which she did not get. So she tried again….and again…and again, until the Slayer opened his pretty blue eyes. 

“Why?” Spike croaked as he stared up at Buffy “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Leaning down, Buffy moved her face as close as possible to his before whispering, “Because it would be too easy. You’re supposed to fight until the death, Slayer.” Buffy crawled off her enemy, but paused for a moment before leaving. “I’ll be back. Next time give me a real challenge.” Without a final glance, the tiny blonde sashayed out of the darkened alley and headed back to the mansion; where she would rest until night fall, when it would be safe for her to leave. 

Spike was still in shock as he made his way back into the Bronze. His body was beaten, bruised and most likely, broken in many spots; but most of all, he had lived. Why? He wasn’t entirely sure, but he was thankful. As he limped towards the booth his friends were occupying, knowing that in his condition he would never make it back home on his own, he wondered when he would see Buffy again.

All he knew was that next time he would be ready…


	8. Chapter 8

Hidden safely behind thick stonewalls of the mansion, Buffy tossed and turned in her silk covered bed. Sleep was restless; plagued with nightmarish visions of her past. 

Her heart was pounding, echoing in her ears as she ran blindly through the woods. Limbs tore at the bare skin of her arms and snagged on the heavy material of her dress. Her lungs were on fire, screaming for more oxygen; her bosom strained against her corset, which was so tight her breathing was limited.

She glanced back, searching through the darkness for the monsters that pursued her. Brief flashes of pale skin taunted her; shock of flaming red hair disappeared behind the trunk of a nearby tree. They were close…Too close. 

Whimpers of fright filled the darkened room as Buffy grasped the red silk sheets tightly with both hands. 

“No…” She murmured lightly in her sleep; look of worry across her face. “Please…No.”

 

_Faint light filtered through the leaves from a house in the distance; the golden glow from the candles perched near the windows. Hope filled her heavy heart as she lifted the layers of the ball gown higher and sprinted towards the safety of the house._

_The edge of the forest was close, just a few more feet ahead. For a fleeting moment, a smile crossed her lips as she prepared to burst into the clearing. All hope left her when a cold hand clamped down on her shoulder, bringing her to a screeching halt._

_She was pulled against a very feminine body, cool slender arms slid intimately around her cinched waist. Desperately, she tried to still the rampant beating of her heart and catch her breath; but failed. She shivered, repulsed, as the monster licked her neck and whispered in her ear, “Now, now, pet…it’s not very proper for a young lady to behave as such, running away from guests.”_

_Trembling with fear, she tried to break free from her captor. Her actions were futile and met with a chilling laughter from the redhead as well as the handsome man with dark hair that tumbled across his forehead._

_She shouted for them to stop, for help, for anything other than what was about to happen. He laughed at her attempts as he smiled down into her tear stained face. “I do enjoy it when they struggle. Wouldn’t you agree, Willow?”_

_Panic bubbled deep within her core as the grip around her waist tightened. The last thing she remembered was the sharp sting of pain at her throat, a faint feeling, followed by blackness._

 

Pillows slid to the floor with a soft thump as Buffy thrashed wildly in her sleep. The sheets were now tangled, wrapped around her lean legs, the blood red silk splashed across the milky white paleness of her fully exposed skin. As always, she was nude, preferring to sleep without the hindrance of clothing. 

 

_Entrance into the house was simple seeing as she belonged there. Once the lady of the house, now declared missing, all she had to do was appear stricken and upset, tearful as she choked out the horrifying story of capture that she had conjured up along the way._

_Remorse for his previous actions had surely been the reason why Riley had accepted her with open arms; never imagining the terror that she had succumbed to. He had ushered her into the seating area with the idea of allowing the fire to warm her. ‘Poor fool,’ she had thought, ‘I will never be warm again.’_

_Finally, when it was just the two of them in the room, the servants ushered out for privacy; she had glided up next to him in a seductive manner. Her body had shuddered and tingled with excitement and lust when she plunged her fangs deep into his neck; her pussy had ached with lust as his warm blood poured into her mouth. Out of the corner of her amber eye, she had watched eagerly as he died in her arms; his heart beat slowing and his eyes wide with fright. Never had any experience been as satisfying as this. When he was drained she flung his limp body to the floor and prepared for the rest of the plan to begin._

_A sadistic smile spread across her bloodstained face as she cruelly laughed at the scene presented before her. His body splayed open, his heart brutally ripped from his chest, the last drops of blood staining the carpet below him. Whoever found Riley would be in for quite a shock as they realized that his heart wasn’t the only part of his anatomy that was misplaced._

_Leaning down beside him, she whispered softly into his ear. “Leaving me alone in the dark was not very husbandly, Riley. You were a naughty boy and that deserves punishment.”_

 

Buffy shot straight up in bed, wide eyed as she gasped deeply for the breath had no use for; the sheets twisted around her and clutched tightly between her tiny hands at her chest. Fresh tears trickled down her flushed cheeks, carving a pattern through dried stain from the previous wave of moisture.

Pulling her knees up towards her chest, Buffy rested her head against them and allowed herself a good cry. 

Hours passed before she crawled out of bed; her vampire senses telling her it was way past sunset. Slowly, Buffy made her way across the vast span of her bedroom and pushed aside the thick black velvet drapes to peer out the window. She stood there, perfectly still…gazing at the brightly lit town below.

It was then she made up her mind. With a heavy heart, Buffy turned from the window and headed towards the bathroom for a shower. She stood beneath the scalding water until it gave way to coldness; it was only then that she emerged and began to get ready. Drying her hair was a struggle due to the few injuries she had sustained from last nights fight with Spike. Her arm was healing nicely, but would take a while longer for all of the fractures to heal completely. She needed to feed again…soon, to speed up the healing process.

A short while later, she emerged from the room with a large bag and eased down the stairs into the living area. A quick check of the house proved her suspicions that her sire and grandsire were otherwise preoccupied in Xander’s bedroom. Deciding against interrupting them, she dug threw her purse and found a tube of red lipstick; which she used to quickly scrawled a message on the mirror by the front door. Satisfied with the message, Buffy grabbed the keys that were on the table by the front door; Buffy exited the mansion and headed down the winding steps towards the garage at the rear of the house. Once inside, she tossed the leather bag into the small trunk before climbing into the black sports car.

A short while later she passed the sign giving her a farewell and asking to please visit Sunnydale again soon.


	9. Chapter 9

Spike groaned loudly as he tried, unsuccessfully, to roll over on the bed. Giving up, he laid his head back down on the pillow and wondered how he had managed to get home. Last thing he remembered was slumping into the booth that his friends were still occupying, then nothing…dark vast nothingness. 

Lifting the covers, he found that someone had been nice enough to take of his shirt and boots. Thankfully, they had left on his pants and spared him the embarrassment of waking up stark naked. Not to mention the shock the other party would have received when they found out he was not wearing any underwear. 

Spike tossed the covers down around his waist and took notice of the damage that Buffy had inflicted on him during their battle. He grimaced as he ran his hand over the garish purple bruises that were splashed across his ribs and stomach. There was a sharp, stinging pain when he took a breath and chalked it up to a couple of broken ribs. His knuckles were busted and covered with gauze, which had already begun to turn pink from the blood seeping from the wounds. There were various scratch marks and bruises speckled across both arms and his lip felt unusually puffy, possibly from a busted lip. Sighing, he tried again to rise up from the bed, but once again, was unsuccessful. Defeated, Spike prepared himself for a world of pain and screamed for someone to come and help him.

A few moments later his dad appeared in the doorway, a look of concern on his face. He appeared tired, beaten and Spike realized that his father must have been awake most of the night with worry. 

“Would you mind helping a fella get out of bed, Da?” Spike said lightly, trying to get his mouth to form a smile but failing miserably thanks to the split across his bottom lip. 

“I think it would be better if you stayed right where you are.” Rupert informed him with a stern look. Spike cringed under his father’s watchful glare and pulled the covers back up. Rupert nodded with satisfaction as he perched at the end of the bed. “So, would you like to tell me just how it is that you came to be in this position?”

“Grr…as much as I hate to tell anyone about last night, the fact that it was a tiny girl that put me in this rather unpleasant situation makes everything seem worse.” 

“Tiny girl you say?”

“Buffy. Ok? It was Buffy that did this to me!” Spike covered his face in embarrassment, hating to admit that it was a girl that put him in his current position; even if she was a Master Vampire. One look at his father, who was currently polishing his glasses, and Spike knew he had better fill him in on the entire story. “When I found out that she was responsible for that bloke’s death right under my bleeding nose, I set out to make her pay. Tracked her down at the Bronze and ended up having a full fledge brawl in the alley. It was a rather even fight for all of about ten minutes, still have this nagging thought that she was toying with me.”

“What led you to believe she was ‘toying’ with you?” His father inquired, glasses back in place. 

“I don’t rightly know… it was just a feeling. I mean, at one point it actually appeared like I was going to win and she would be just another pile of dust. Then everything seemed to change, she basically got up and smirked at me. Next thing I know, she has me pinned underneath her and she was heading in for the kill.”

“You mean to tell me that a vampire, a rather powerful one at that was in a position to kill you or whatever she had planned and you are still around to tell the tale?” Rupert was shocked. From the information that Mr. Wyndham-Price had told him about Buffy, he never would have imagined that a vampire with a history as bloody as hers would have left a Slayer alive if given the chance to kill them.

“Exactly, see my point now? I am quite sure that I inflicted a bit of pain in her direction as well; didn’t stand around and let some girl punch on me like some soddin’ nancy boy. But, in the end, she walked away like nothing was wrong.” Spike stopped for a minute, reflecting over the moment that Buffy left. ‘You know, she did say something before she left…”

“Really…and what might that be?” His father inquired.

“You’re supposed to fight until the death, Slayer.” Spike said shamefully, knowing full well that his father and his watcher would realize that he had given up. “Then, while she was prancing away she told me to be ready to give her a real challenge next time.”

“Well, William…” Rupert started, ignoring his son’s previous requests not to use his given name. “I have to agree that her behavior was rather odd, but you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Next time we will make sure you are fully prepared. I truly do not believe that she will just walk away from your next encounter.” He paused for a moment to allow the severity of his words to sink in his son’s brain. “Now, you need to get some rest and I need to call your Watcher to let him know that you are finally awake.”

The room was engulfed in darkness by the time Spike woke up from his nap. He reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp. This time, he was determined to get out of the bed and at least take a shower; possibly take a quick trip to the kitchen and scrounge up something to eat. One thing was for sure, he was going to go absolutely mental if he had to lie around in bed any longer.

After a long, but painful, scalding hot shower Spike managed to pull on a pair of black jogging pants and an old Ramones T-shirt before slowly making his way down the stairs. Turning the corner, he came face to face with his obviously displeased father; Spike skidded to a halt before running him over.

“What are you going out of bed?!” Rupert demanded. While he was very pleased that William was at least well enough to be up and walking around, having his son’s friends carry him through the door with almost every inch of his body beaten and bloody had not been a welcomed sight; which made him weary to let William get out of bed, much less be ambulatory. “I precisely remember giving you exact instructions to stay in bed.”

Spike was at a loss for words. He stared at his father with a blank expression, “I…uh…was hungry?” Thankfully his father’s attention was averted by the sound of the doorbell. Spike gingerly eased around his father and opened the door, surprised to find Angel on the other side.

“Hey man! How ya feeling?” Angel said loudly as he entered the house.

“I was doin’ a whole lot better before I saw that shirt.” Spike replied sarcastically as he wrinkled his face in disgust. “Bloody things an eyesore, mate.”

“Yup, you’re feeling better. I am going to forgive your remark about my shirt since that chick obviously knocked the sense right out of your head.” Angel smirked, running his hands over the front of the garish blue and lime green Hawaiian print shirt. “This is totally in style! I saw it in a magazine.”

“Oh yeah, is that right? What was it called…’How Not to Impress a Woman’?” Spike remarked with a good natured laugh. “I’m quite sure that flowery-girly shirts are all the rage for men!”

“Hardy-har-har! And here I was coming over to see how my best buddy was doin’!” Angel shut the door and headed for the kitchen to find something to eat. “Hmph…just for being rude, I shouldn’t warn you that your Watcher was right behind me.”

Spike groaned as he watched his best friend disappear down the hallway and turned back to the door, managing to open it before Wesley had even knocked. The expression on his Watcher’s face was less appealing than the one his father had been wearing earlier. Gesturing with his arm for the tweed covered man to come inside, Spike mentally prepared himself for the impending inquisition.

“It’s going to be a long night!” He muttered under his breath, shutting the door and heading into the kitchen with everyone else.


	10. Chapter 10

Spike slumped further down in his chair, desperately trying to vanish from sight. The past hour had been filled with ranting from both his Watcher and his father about how disappointed they were with him. 

_“What on earth could have possibly possessed you to think that you could handle such a powerful vampire on your own?!” Wesley had asked, which had started the evening off on a very sour note. “Of all the asinine things to do!”_

Thankfully, they had eventually settled down. However, his father’s face was still an unhealthy shade of red with a vein pulsating in the forehead. Spike knew from previous lessons that his current expression meant that someone was in a heap of trouble. Wesley, on the other hand, was not as red faced as his father, but was still nervously pacing around the living room. 

Spike watched curiously as Wesley removed his brown tweed blazer, tossed it over the back of the nearest chair and rubbed his hands over his face. With an audible sigh, his Watcher sand into the armchair near the fireplace and said, “I do believe there has been enough accusations and berating for the evening. There are other matters at hand that need to be dealt with.” Wesley informed them as he graciously accepted a snifter of scotch from Rupert. “First off, I need you to be completely honest with me about your encounters with Buffy. How many times have you seen her, fought with her…anything?”

“Honestly…huh…not many really. There was the time at the Bronze on my birthday and then last night…at the Bronze, once again.” Spike said, still slumped low in the other chair facing his Watcher. 

“Only twice? That’s a bit odd since she seems to have become taken with you.” Wesley leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he stared intently at his charge; something in the young man’s voice was telling him that there was more to the story. 

“Well….there was this one time. I don’t know exactly what happened, but one night I had a…erm….dream about her and when I woke up the next morning my window was open…” Spike took a calming breath before mumbling, “and there was a fresh bite mark.”

“A bite mark!” Both his father and Watcher cried simultaneously. Spike desperately wished he could disappear and slinked even further down in his chair; he envied Angel for easing out the door when the yelling had begun. Bringing his gaze upwards to meet Wesley’s, Spike nodded. Wesley stared at him, “How on earth did she manage to get into the house?”

Spike shrugged, “I haven’t a bloody clue…thought you might be able to shed a little light on the subject.” Out of the corner of his eye, Spike noticed a change in his father’s demeanor. 

“Dear Lord…I never even considered the danger.” Rupert said his voice light. “I never imagined that sweet little girl to be a vampire.” Obviously shaken, Rupert pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down. Wesley was on him in a second.

“What did you do, Rupert? You of all people should have known the dangers of inviting someone you did not know into the house!” Back on his feet, Spike watched as Wesley began pacing the small room again.

“Cut the man some slack, Wes!” Spike demanded, sticking up for his father. “He feels bad enough as is and it’s not like the bloody chit did anything to me…er…or anything worse than what she did. It takes a good bit of adjustment to get used to this new lifestyle and that was fairly early in the whole sodding ordeal, so just lay off. How would he have known that Buffy was anything other than a normal school girl?”

Wesley stopped his pacing long enough to look at Spike before locking his furious gaze at Rupert. “In light of this new piece of information I think everyone needs to be truthful, no more withholding information. Rupert, I think there something you need to tell Spike?”

Spike knew something was seriously wrong when his father took his glasses off and began to polish them. “Dad, what is Wesley going on about?”

“William, there has been something that I have been keeping from you. Looking back, I know realize I should have been up front with you.” Rupert placed his glasses back on and turned to Spike. “Your grandfather, my father, was a Watcher…along with several of your ancestors. I was expected to follow the family tradition and head off to be a Watcher after graduating from Oxford, but I met your mother who did not approve of such a lifestyle. She wanted a husband and children…someone to be by her side and come home every night, not someone who fluttered through the house when they weren’t busy helping some young man kill demons. As you can see…I chose your mother. 

Not once since you were born have I regretted telling you about the darker side of the world until now. So…you see, I should have known the difference, known that the pretty young lady wasn’t who she appeared to be. Good Lord, I could’ve gotten both of us killed at any time, she has free range to enter our house any time she wants!”

Spike let the information sink in before saying, “You…were a Watcher?! Huh…actually explains a lot, you always did seem to have a full knowledge of strange occurrences around here. But, on a brighter note…she never did anything, well…anything like killing us.” Spike paused, turning to his Watcher. “Why didn’t she, Wes? If Buffy is this horrible, sadistic killing machine then why didn’t she kill my dad…or me for that matter when she had the chance?”

For once, Wesley didn’t have an answer or at least something that sounded plausible. “I haven’t a clue. From what I have read on Buffy, something like this is completely unprecedented.” He stopped long enough to walk into the foyer and grab a thick, leather bound book from his satchel. “Actually, I brought this over tonight for you to read. It’s the journal that belonged to the Watcher during Buffy’s earlier years.” Spike took the heavy book from Wesley’s hand, his eyes conveying his disinterest in reading the book. Seeing his Slayer’s apprehension, Wesley continued, “Read it on your own time, for now I wanted to tell you about her early years so that you don’t misunderstand her actions; make sure you know who…what you are dealing with.. 

The one entry that I took a keen interest to detailed the accounts of her first kill, or what they presumed was her first at the time. It was very messy, actually from what I read it was down right a massacre. You see, she killed her husband. Mutilated his body in fact to the point that when one of the servants found him, she wasn’t quite sure it was her employer. 

From what I could tell from the writings, she had ripped his neck open savagely; much like what she did to that Parker boy. His chest was cut open and his heart taken out…never to be found. It appears to have revolved around vengeance instead of nourishment. And…um…it was mentioned that his…erm…penis was severed off and…dear lord…placed in his mouth.”

Spike felt sick to his stomach, which he imagined any man would feel the same after hearing about what Buffy did to her husband’s manly parts. “But, how did she get into the house if she was dead? Wouldn’t everyone in the house know that something was wrong if the lady of the house died and then showed up on the front porch?”

“She was listed as missing, no body or funeral. All that is mentioned is that she was very young, possibly around eighteen, maybe younger. Her family wasn’t well off, father died when she was younger. She had a younger sister, Dawn and of course, her mother, Joyce. Her marriage had been arranged by her father when she was fairly young to a local businessman’s son, Riley Finn. 

Oddly enough, she never hurt anyone else in the house that night. None of the servants were harmed, not a single hair. Never harmed her family, either, which is unheard of for most vampires. First thing they usually want to do is get rid of the ties to their previous life.”

Spike remained silent after Wesley’s speech. _‘Why did she let me live?’ he thought to himself. ‘It just doesn’t make any sense.’_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Across town…

“Where is she?!?” Willow screamed her voice shrill with anger. “Why hasn’t my precious princess returned, Daddy?” The redhead had been ranting and raving for over an hour after finding Buffy’s room empty as well as the cryptic message that was scrawled on the mirror in lipstick. 

Xander shook his head, frustrated and annoyed with his childe. Personally, Buffy had always been like a thorn in his side. Between Willow’s obsession and Buffy’s bragging about killing two slayers, he often felt like staking both of them and starting over with a new childe. Walking across the living room, he stopped in front of the ornate wall mirror and reread the message left by Buffy.

_Need some time alone. Be back soon. B_

“I don’t have a clue as to when she will get back, Willow. Judging from her little message, she could either stroll in any minute or it could be days….weeks…hell, even years.” Xander told his beautiful childe who had fallen to a heap in the floor, crying. “One can only hope it will be years.” He muttered to himself as he stepped around the sniveling redhead in order to reach the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table. Tilting the bottle back, he chugged the brown liquor until the remaining liquid was gone. “Fuck, maybe the bitch won’t even come back.”


	11. Chapter 11

Xander’s nerves were frazzled; his sanity was hanging on by a thread as he lay in his bed listening to his frantic childe stalk up and down the hallways screaming for her wayward “princess”. It had been days since Buffy disappeared and his patience with Willow was wearing thin. 

Thanks to a trip to Willy’s, the local demon bar, Xander had learned that his tiny blonde grand-childe had been involved in a brutal fight with the Slayer a week earlier. What surprised him the most was that she had walked away, leaving the boy bloodied and broken, laying in the dank alley behind the Bronze. He had been shocked that Buffy had passed up the opportunity to add another notch to her belt; putting her Slayer count at three. 

The solution to his problematic childe suddenly popped into his brain. Flinging himself from the bed, Xander tore out of the bedroom in search of Willow. He found her sitting on the marbled living room floor, tears rolling down her face as she softly murmuring nonsense about princesses and castles. Xander shook his head at her antics; knowing he would never be able to comprehend what was going on in her pretty little head. Kneeling down beside Willow, Xander stroked her back and whispered, “My sweet Willow, do you want to go find your pretty princess?” 

The tears had stopped almost instantaneously at Xander’s suggestion. Willow had leapt from the floor and took off full sprint towards their bedroom, where she was currently tossing items from the closet onto the bed. Itching to be out of Sunnydale, Xander pulled a bag out from under their bed and put the clothes inside. Fifteen minutes later, Xander was locking the front door while Willow waited impatiently in the car; bouncing excitedly on the front seat. Hurrying down the sidewalk, Xander glanced back at their new home, glad that the previous owner had been a sucker for sweet, innocent young blonde girls needing to use the telephone; now when they visited, they would have a place to stay. 

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Xander pulled Willow against him and kissed her hungrily. “Don’t you worry, baby. We’ll search every castle until we find your princess.” With a smug expression on his face, he backed out of the drive with the knowledge that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure Willow never saw Buffy again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

Buffy groaned and stretched, trying to wake up, her vampire senses telling her the sun was setting. When her hand brushed against a warm body next to her, Buffy’s eyes shot wide open. Lying next to her was a rather large man; a man that she had no conscious memory of, but could smell his blood and taste it in her mouth. Much to her surprise, Buffy could hear his heart beating. Looking around the room, she also realized that the room was unfamiliar as well. Bland wallpaper, dirty carpet, bed linens that resembled sandpaper and the unmistakable smell of sex told her that she was either in a hotel room or her choice of companion lived in a rat hole. 

As silently as possible, Buffy slid from the bed and began to search for her clothes. She located her red leather pants bunched up at the foot of the bed, the black halter top tossed over the back of a chair, one boot by the door and one on top of the small dinner table. Her bra and thong were nowhere to be found. Not wanting to wake up her bedmate, Buffy gave up the search and quickly dressed. She had just zipped up her boots when the overly muscular man in the bed began to squirm, signaling that he was waking up. Easing the door open, Buffy slipped out into the hallway. After making her way downstairs, where she stood in the darkened parking lot and wondered, ‘Where the hell am I?’ 

 

~*~*~*~*~*

 

It had been over a week since his fight with Buffy. His injuries had long since healed, thanks to his slayer healing abilities, but every detail was still etched in his mind. Each night he went out searching for her, thoroughly checking anyplace that he thought she might be; the Bronze, Willy’s and each and every one of Sunnydale’s cemeteries; yet, he found nothing. No one had seen Buffy since their last meeting in the alley way. Still, he continued to search, desperately needing to know why she had left him alive. Why the ‘Slayer of Slayers’ would pass up the opportunity to kill another one; why was he spared?

Tonight’s patrol was slow; slower than usual. Word around town was that all three major players in the vampire community had left town. Spike roamed around the darkened cemetery, stake in hand, itching for something to kill. A real challenge, not the pathetic fledglings he dusted so easily. Checking his watch, he found that time had passed faster than he had thought and decided to call it a night since sunrise would be soon. It was nearing five in the morning when he slipped in the front door and eased up the stairs. He was as quiet as a mouse; careful not to step on the spots he knew would squeak and alert his arrival. The last thing he wanted this early in the morning was to speak to his father. Ever since Angel and Gunn had carried him home, unconscious and beaten, Rupert had been overly protective of him. It actually surprised Spike that his father wasn’t waiting up for his early morning arrival, ready to dissect every aspect of the night’s patrol.

Once in his bedroom, Spike shrugged out of his duster and placed it on the hook behind the bedroom door. Sitting down at his desk, he decided to check his email before going to bed. After deleting several items, he came across one from Angel. Inside the email, Spike found that his friend wanted to set him up on a date with some girl he met at the Bronze while he had been patrolling. Apparently she was new to town and would be starting school with them on Monday. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to at least meet the girl; he quickly sent a reply to Angel to arrange for her to meet them at the Bronze around eight that night. As he shut down his computer, Spike couldn’t help but wonder why any parent would name their daughter Drusilla.


	12. Chapter 12

Time passed quickly in Sunnydale; days turned into weeks, weeks into months until a year and a half passed with barely a blink of an eye. With the impending arrival of his twentieth birthday, Spike now spent much of his time reflecting on what he wanted out of life. Deep down he understood that he could never have what was considered to be a “normal” life; that Slayers did not get to have a loving wife, 2.5 children, a big white house with a picket fence. Nope, Slayers were destined to spend their lives in the dark, fighting the creatures of the night, until their gruesome death. 

On most days, Spike was able to push the creeping depressive thoughts to the far recesses of his mind and focus on living each day one after the other. While each night was chock full of vampires and demons, Spike filled his days with classes at UC Sunnydale where he was majoring in Psychology; which was what he chose after being forced to finally claim a major. Figuring it to be a “cake” course, Spike had wandered into his first class with his trademark smirk and carefree attitude. However, after meeting the instructor, Professor Walsh, Spike realized that not only was the class going to be a whole hell of a lot harder than he had anticipated, but that he was actually going to enjoy it. His enjoyment in the class grew exponentially when he met the professors teaching assistant, Tara Maclay. Spike was instantly attracted to the shy girl with honey colored locks and slight stutter. After a rather embarrassing attempt to gain her attentions, Spike learned that she was uninterested, since her sexual attractions were more focused on people without penises. Despite her lack of attraction to Spike, they grew close and spent a great deal of time together out side of class; much to the dismay of his girlfriend of over a year, Drusilla.

After being introduced to the fair skinned, raven haired beauty at the Bronze one night by Angel, Spike had become instantly enamored with mysterious girl. For several months after their initial meeting, their relationship deepened from friends to a more intimate coupling. Spike loved that she was normal, a living breathing human that he could spend not only his nights with, but more importantly, his days. Although her parents were not overly fond of their relationship, finding Spike unworthy of her affection since his family was not “well-off”, they tolerated his existence; figuring that their only daughter’s attraction to him was his rebel like exterior and that their relationship was just a teenage fling. 

While his feelings for Drusilla were indeed strong, sometimes Spike felt as though he might be in love, he was often bombarded by lustful thoughts of a certain blonde he had not seen in ages. Sometimes, after a night of patrolling, he would lie in his bed and allow his thoughts to wander back in time. Images of her tight body writhing against him at the Bronze, the way her perky breasts brushed against his chest, her lips pressed against his, filling his mind and causing his cock to throb painfully against his lower stomach. It was only when Spike imagined Buffy’s fangs slicing through the tender skin of his neck or inner thigh that he could no longer contain his need; taking his hardened shaft in his hand, pumping wildly until he came hard, thick strands of cum spilling over his curled hand, his screams of passion barely concealed by the pillow. 

She plagued his dreams, beckoning to him with a seductive smile and breathy voice; begging for Spike to come find her and spend an eternity with her in the dark. Night after night he tossed and turned in his small single bed, moans and sighs often passing over his lips as he repeated his search for Buffy. Most nights his search was futile, aimlessly wandering through darkened streets; but there were rare occasions when Spike would find Buffy. It was those dreams that frightened him the most, waking up with his heart pounding, cock throbbing and a desire to crawl out of bed and actually go look for her. What scared Spike the most was that in his dreams, he never made an attempt to stake Buffy; not once in almost eighteen months did he try to dust her in his dreams. Instead, when Spike found her, albeit dark alleyway or candlelit hotel room, he would embrace her passionately and they would spend the remainder of the evening having sex. Just before Spike would wake up, their bodies would be entertwined; his softening cock still buried inside her pussy, Buffy would sink her fangs into his neck, sending Spike spiraling into a mind blowing orgasm. In his dream, Spike would feel his heart slowing as Buffy pulled his life’s blood into her mouth; feel his life slipping away. Then, as if floating above the joined bodies, Spike would watch as Buffy nicked her arm with one sharp fang and place it above his mouth, feeding him her blood in order to turn him. While that very act scared Spike, the fact that deep down the idea of spending an eternity with Buffy called to him was what frightened the hell out him. It was those mornings that were the hardest; having to force himself out of bed and into the world where he had to be sociable and studious. They were the hardest because those were the dreams that made him want to stay in bed even though he was afraid 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Clear across the country, Buffy slowly awoke from a pleasant, yet disturbing dream about a certain blonde Slayer and stared at the ceiling trying to decipher its meaning. Giving up on ever figuring out her feelings for Spike, she decided to get out of bed. Stretching her limbs, she eased out of the silky soft bed, mindful of still sleeping figure beside her. With light steps, Buffy tiptoed across their bedroom and slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower; the heady aroma of her lovers arousal still thick in the air around her body. Turning the water on full throttle, Buffy stepped into the black tiled shower and closed her eyes as she allowed the near scalding hot water cascade down her body. Leaning forward, she placed her hands against the cool tile and angled her head under the spray at the same time she heard the sliding doors ease open; signaling the arrival of her lover.  
Buffy arched her back into the awaiting figure; the scorching heat from her lover’s body never ceased to amaze her.

“Mm…” Buffy moaned as warm hands ghosted over her sides as they made their way towards her bare breasts; stopping to cup the rounded globes and tease her turgid peaks. “Didn’t mean to wake you, but glad that I did.” Loud sighs echoed against the ceramic walls as one hand lower, gliding down her body until it came to rest at the juncture between her trembling thighs. Turning around in her lover’s embrace, Buffy stared deeply into the lust filled whiskey colored eyes; pausing for a brief moment to wish that the eyes staring back at her were artic blue instead. Mentally shaking off the sudden pang in her un-beating heart, Buffy leaned against her lover, wrapping her arms around the warm, supple body and caressing the silken skin; playful nibbles tracing up a pulsating blue vein until her lips settled in the delicate hollow below the ear. Feeling one skillful finger slide into her pussy, Buffy growled in pleasure just before sinking her fangs into the tender skin that covered the jugular. After several mouthfuls of rich blood, Buffy felt her orgasm threatening to shatter through her body. Lifting her head, she once again stared into her lover’s eyes and whispered, “Why don’t we move this to somewhere a little more comfortable?” 

“Don’t have to twist my arm, B.”


	13. Chapter 13

Eyes wide with alarm, Buffy shot straight up from her slumbering position in bed; body shaking with unneeded breaths. Glancing around the room, it took her several minutes to gather her composure, her dream still echoing in her head. Flinging the covers off into the floor, Buffy scrambled around the room gathering the needed belongings and tossing them haphazardly into a suitcase. Although the sun was shining bright in the sky, the harmful rays creeping around the thick drapes cloaking the window, Buffy knew she had to leave New York. Deep down she knew her dream was more than her mind working overtime, Buffy knew it was time to return to Sunnydale.

Buffy was just gathering the last of her clothing when the bedroom door opened. Glancing over, she was faced with her very unpleased lover. Faith stood in the doorway, arms crossed and an expression of pure anger splashed across her face. 

“Going somewhere?” Faith asked with a hint of sarcasm dripping through her angry tone. “I take it that it’s a solo trip.” 

“Yeah, it is…just me. Kinda last minute thing.” Buffy replied, focusing her concentration on getting dressed and not getting into an argument with Faith. Quickly shimmying into a pair of dark blue jeans and a skintight blood red T-shirt, Buffy perched on the edge of the bed to slip into her favorite black ankle boots.

“So, B, care to fill me in on your travel plans? Roundtrip or one-way?” Faith practically snarled, not use to being left behind. For the past several months, she and Buffy had traveled all over the Eastern seaboard and not once had her lover ever left her behind. Stepping away from the doorway, Faith finally laid her eyes on the amount of baggage Buffy planned to carry with her. With an audible sigh, Faith pointed at the luggage and said, “Guess that answers my question.”

“Look…I honestly can’t say how long this will take. Something is really wigging me out and I need to head back to California for a bit.” Forcing a small smile onto her face, Buffy moved closer to Faith and reached out for a hug. “I’ll come back for you.”

Faith almost let herself give into Buffy’s charms, the same soft smile and alluring emerald eyes that had lured her into the blonde vampire’s life in the first place, but pulled herself back at the last minute. “No!” She shouted, pushing Buffy away. Spinning around, she stalked across the room; temper flaring. “If you think that I am gonna just sit here and wait for you like some…some lovesick schoolgirl you are seriously wrong. Screw you! You can’t just treat me like I’m nothing, B. Like I don’t matter!”

Shaking her head, Buffy let her emotions bubble to the surface until they threatened to explode. Since leaving Sunnydale, she had held back her emotions, pushing them down until she felt like she might choke on them; forcing her demon into submission, her generally suppressed human nature demanding to finally be in charge. With an amused and frustrated laugh, Buffy replied, “Hey! I never said you don’t matter, Faith. I believe you were the one who was oh so interested in being with me, even when you knew that I could never love you. What was it you said? Something like… ‘Fuck and Feed’? A relationship of convenience: me the vampire who needed a constant supply of blood, but didn’t want to kill; and you, the homeless chick who whored herself out to vamps for money in exchange for blood. Thought that’s what all this was to you?” Buffy knew she was being a bitch, but at that moment she didn’t care. She never made a promise to Faith to stay with her forever; if she had, then Buffy would have turned her. Turning her back to the furious brunette, Buffy grabbed her suitcases and moved towards the door. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry that it had to end this way.” With one final glance over her shoulder, Buffy forced herself to muster up the slightest of smiles in attempts to calm Faith. In the end, her attempts were futile as she barely had a chance to duck before being hit in the head by a vase that Faith chunked across the room. “Fine, have it your way.” The last thing Buffy heard from the bedroom was the sounds of various decorations being smashed against the walls.

Faith stood in the midst of the destruction, the faint scent of sex still permeating the bedroom from their tryst before sunrise. Her eyes were swollen from the hot, salty tears that refused to stop; her hands were balled into fists at her sides and her chest was heaving from the deep, calming breaths that were not working. With an animalistic cry, she shoved one fist through the antique mirror that hung over the dresser and shouted, “Screw you, Buffy! You’ll regret leaving me!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Night had fallen by the time Buffy made her way across town to the airport; a long and tedious excursion from the parking garage with a quick sprint to the subway access near the apartment building, where she had to change trains several times in order to make her way to the airport. Now, Buffy sighed in relief as she stood near the gate for the flight leaving for Los Angeles with her ticket firmly grasped in her tiny hand. Unfortunately, the flight was not scheduled to depart for nearly an hour which left Buffy with too much time on her hands. Settling into a nearby chair, she sat and patiently waited for her flight to be called. With boredom quickly washing over her, Buffy let her mind wander back to her unsettling dream; wondering if it was foretelling the future.

In her dream, Buffy had been back in Sunnydale, but for some reason was unable to communicate with anyone around her; almost like she was a ghost. Standing in the middle of one of the many graveyards in the small town, Buffy was surrounded by several figures. At first they had appeared almost fog like, with no apparent features. As Buffy slowly approached them, she found that Xander and Willow were in front of her, snarling viciously in their full vampire visage. Turning around slowly, Buffy recognized Spike with an unknown petite, fair haired woman who appeared to be cowering behind the Slayer’s billowing coat. 

Fear had consumed Buffy as she realized not only what was about to happen, but that there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable massacre. Opening her mouth wide with a silent scream, Buffy stood rigidly between them as the vampires lunged towards the Slayer, who charged forward with a startling scream. As their bodies crossed the juncture where her body stood frozen in place, a bone chilling sensation rushed through Buffy; a feeling that still haunted her even now that she was awake. 

Time seemed to slow as the three figures attacked, two against one. Fangs bared, fists flying. Buffy stood in the midst of chaos and watched as Willow stepped away from the madness; leaving Xander to continue fighting with Spike. Buffy shook violently as she watched her redheaded sire slink off to the side and slip up behind the unaware female who had been too caught up in watching the fight to notice Willow. Buffy stared in horror as Willow’s fangs plunged deep into the girl’s neck; the vampire’s eyes glittering madly as she slowly drained the innocent female of her life. 

For Buffy, the most upsetting moment of the dream had been when Spike noticed his friend crumpled on the ground; unceremoniously dropped there when Willow finished her meal. In a moment of weakness, Spike turned away from his attacker with a gut wrenching cry and started towards her body. It was then that Buffy sank to her knees as she watched Xander knock the Slayer to the ground and victoriously sink his fangs in savagely. It had been that moment she had awoken and decided to return to Sunnydale. 

Finally, Buffy heard the monotonous voice instructing her to board the plane, bringing her back to reality. As she made her way to the forming line, she thought to herself, _’I don’t know what that dream meant or if it meant anything at all. But if for some reason it could happen…maybe I can stop it.’_


	14. Chapter 14

It was after midnight when Buffy’s plane landed at the Los Angeles airport. Thankfully, she had prearranged to pickup at sporty rental car upon her arrival in order to make it the rest of the way to Sunnydale. However, it was times like this when she desperately regretted selling her car when she settled down in Manhattan, figuring that it would just be easier to walk, take a cab or subway than trying to locate a parking spot. Grabbing her two suitcases off the turnstile, Buffy made her way across the airport and got her rental car. 

By the time she made it to Sunnydale it was nearing four in the morning and Buffy figured that it was too late to try and do anything for now. Winding her way through the empty streets, she found herself parked across the way from the Slayers house. The soft light from a window on the second floor signaling that either Spike was still awake or had not yet made it home from patrolling. Putting the car in park and turning off the engine, Buffy sat in the dark and watched his house. The faint rays of morning were just beginning to peak over the horizon when she spotted a figure walking along the sidewalk. Slinking down in her seat, Buffy watched as Spike made his way around the corner and up the steps to his front porch. When he stopped and turned, looking in her direction, Buffy slid further down in her seat, not ready to give away her presence just yet. All in all, at that particular moment Buffy was satisfied just knowing that Spike had safely returned home from that evening’s patrol. For now, she was mesmerized by his beauty; the sharp cheekbones, arctic blue eyes and luscious lips. Power radiated from the Slayer even as he stood still, rigid on the front porch and visually searched the area for trouble.

 

The tales tell signs of a vampire presence crept up Spike’s neck, leaving a faint trail of goose bumps along his skin. Standing on the darkened front porch, Spike focused his attention on his surroundings and slowly scanned the area. After checking his surroundings twice, Spike shrugged his shoulders and unlocked the door; glancing back outside briefly before crossing the threshold. Spike trudged up the stairs with heavy shoulders, exhausted from patrolling. Lately, it seemed as though his nightly extracurricular activities combined with his daytime school schedule was wearing him out faster than normal. Add to that the few hours a day that he managed to squeeze in time to visit Dru or his friends, made for a very cranky Slayer. Quietly easing open his bedroom door, careful to not wake his father, Spike stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed; fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

Outside, Buffy waited patiently for all of the lights to go off in the house before cranking the car and heading across town to the home she had left behind. Pulling into the driveway on Crawford Street, Buffy was pleased to find that the mansion appeared to be empty. To be on the safe side, she let her demon surface and listened for any activity from inside the house. Not registering any extra heartbeats or the usual noises that came from an occupied residence, Buffy grabbed her bags and headed into the house. One look inside the vacant home proved that it had been a very long time since anyone had stayed at there and Buffy briefly wondered were Xander and Willow had disappeared to. A slight twinge of regret flooded Buffy as her demon ached for its sires, but her more rational human side knew that leaving them had been the best thing to do at the time. If they had ever found out about her growing feelings for Spike, Willow and Xander would have been enraged. Buffy knew they would have never let Spike live, possibly inflicting the same amount of torture upon his body that they would have given to her. Although Spike was considered to be somewhat of a “Super-being”, Buffy felt sure that he would not be able to withstand days or possibly weeks of torture at the hands of two Master Vampires; not the way she could. In the end, his body would have succumbed to the pain and blood loss; slipping away into a gruesome death. 

Buffy quickly searched each and every room for signs of occupants before taking her bags into the bedroom she had once occupied. Remnants of candles were still perched on the heavy wrought iron pedestals scattered around the room; melted stumps with wax dribbling down the sides. Fishing around in one of the drawers of the antique armoire, Buffy triumphantly produced a crumbled box of matches which she promptly used to light several candles; casting a faint, romantic hue through the room. Shedding her clothes, Buffy eagerly crawled into the four poster canopy bed and snuggled below the crimson colored bedding, instantly slipping into a restless slumber. 

When she awoke later that afternoon, she could sense the sun had just begun to settle below the horizon. Getting out of the bed, she sleepily stumbled across the room towards the bathroom and prayed that the water still worked. Reaching into the shower, Buffy turned the nozzle and sighed in relief as a stream of water spurt out. She darted into the bedroom and grabbed her toiletries from a suitcase before returning to the shower and stepping inside. Although the water was ice cold, Buffy paid the temperature no attention and proceeded to wash her hair.

A little while later, Buffy emerged from the bathroom dressed and ready to go out for the evening. Her shinning blonde locks fell just past her shoulders with a slight curl to the ends, smoky charcoal shadow lined her emerald green eyes and her lips were stained berry red. Since she had decided to go to the Bronze, being the weekend Buffy figured it was her best chance at finding Spike, she had opted for her newest dress. Oriental style with no sleeves and a slightly raised collar, the satiny material hugged her curves and fell to the tops of her thighs. Blood red in color with black dragons plastered across the material, shiny silver threads traced the edges. Figuring there was a good chance she might get into some type of scuffle, Buffy decided to wear black lycra boy cut underwear instead of her usual thongs, since the sides of the dress were slit about three inches up the leg. Completing the outfit were her knee high motorcycle boots with silver buckles running up the outer sides. With a quick smile into the mirror to her nonexistent reflection, Buffy grabbed her car keys and headed out the door.

 

Spike was bored. Earlier in the week, he had promised everyone that he would take a night off from patrolling and come to the Bronze with them. Now, he was crammed into a booth with Drusilla, Angel, Gunn and Fred; bored and uncomfortable. Thankfully, the bartenders at the local club weren’t too bright and rarely checked anyone’s proof of age, so there was at least plenty of liquor at the table. Tipping back his glass, Spike frowned when he noticed it was empty. Leaning closer to Drusilla, he whispered in her ear that he needed a refill and for her to move to let him out of the booth. Ever the accommodating girlfriend, the raven haired beauty placed a kiss on his nose and announced that she would go for him. Spike watched as she sashayed across the dance floor and thought for the millionth time how much easier his life would be if he could just fall in love with Drusilla. 

About an hour and several drinks later, Spike was feeling no pain as he lounged in the booth with Gunn. Angel was busy making a fool out of himself on the dance floor with the girls, who seemed to be enjoying the silly way the hulking brunette was dancing. Leaning his head back against the black vinyl, Spike closed his eyes as he desperately tried to get the room to stop spinning and wondered how in the hell he would get home later. When he heard Gunn rambling on about some chick, he opened his eyes and looked at his friend.

“Man!” Gunn proclaimed a bit too loud due to the liquor in his system. “That is one fine ass woman that just walked through the door!”

“I’ll be the judge of that, mate!” Spike announced drunkenly as he craned his neck around to see the girl in question. Spike tried to focus his sights on what appeared to be a blonde girl wearing a red dress. The room was still spinning and his vision was blurred, so he decided to shut one eye and try to focus harder. Finally his eyes decided to work with him instead of against him and Spike was able to see the vision before him. His breath hitched in his chest and his heart hammered wildly against his ribs as his mind screamed her name. Dumbfounded and slightly frightened, he whispered, “Buffy?!”


	15. Chapter 15

Buffy was unable to tear her eyes away from Spike’s, her feet were frozen in place as she stood shyly against the wall. Never in all her years had Buffy felt so unsure of herself, resorting to wallflower status as she waited for Spike to make the first move. The outside world fell away, leaving the two blondes oblivious to anything other than one another. Just as Buffy took one shaky step in the direction of Spike, their connection was broken when a raven haired girl stepped in front of him; effectively halting her journey. 

Spike blinked several times trying to get his vision to straighten out again to see who or what was blocking Buffy. Looking upwards, he found himself staring into the face of a very disgruntled girlfriend. 

“Lo, pet.” Spike mumbled, placing his hands on Drusilla’s petite waist and trying to peak around her to find Buffy. “Why so glum?”

“Glum! Hmph!” Drusilla fumed, crossing her arms across her chest in aggravation. “You haven’t danced with me all night and now you’re too drunk to do anything but sit in this bloody booth!”

Normally Spike found Drusilla’s pouting to be relatively cute, bending to her will when she batted her chocolate brown eyes in his direction. Tonight, on the other hand, her actions were only fueling his desire to leave and find Buffy. “So sorry, luv. How’s about I make a quick trip to the loo? Maybe that will make me feel better, yeah?” When Spike heard Drusilla’s mumbled response, he grabbed a hold to the back of the booth and pulled himself up. Stumbling across the dance floor, Spike slowly made his way towards the back of the club in the direction of the bathrooms.

Once inside the garishly lit blue tiled bathroom, Spike splashed his face with cold water and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. When he heard the door open and bang shut, Spike cracked one eye and glanced towards the mirror, angling his head so that he could see who came in. When he did not see anyone, Spike took a step forward and leaned around the side of the stalls and searched again. The shriek that erupted from his throat when he bumped into someone echoed loudly, sounding embarrassingly like a woman screaming. 

“Sorry, didn’t see you there, mate.” He muttered, stepping aside, desperate to leave the tiny enclosure. 

“Hmm…must be drunker than I thought to mistake me for a man, Slayer.” Buffy teased, running her hand down Spike’s chest, letting him know exactly who he was dealing with. Instantly sensing his fear, Buffy removed her hand and took a step back. Since she was trying to play nice this time around, Buffy figured scaring the living daylights out of Spike right off the bat would not be a good idea. “You ok, Slayer? Got this kinda green thing going on with your face; you gonna hurl or something?”

“Why are you here, Buffy?” Spike asked, his voice dripping with loathing for the tiny blonde vampire. While his hormones were screaming at him to take her right there in the dingy bathroom, Spike’s pride was urging him to make her pay for what she had done to him last time around. “Come to finish what you started last time?” 

 

A wave of sorrow burst through Buffy and for a brief second she wondered what was making her feel guilty over her previous actions. Pushing her thoughts aside, Buffy took a deep, yet unneeded breath and said, “Something told me to come back here. I think you are in danger.”

“Right!” Spike scoffed, “The only bloody thing that’s ever been a threat to me has been you.” With an enraged growl, Spike stalked towards the bathroom door with every intention of leaving, but something told him to stop. With his hand on the door handle, he said, “Fine, what kind of trouble?”

“From my sires.” Buffy admitted, “I have this feeling that they are planning on coming back to Sunnydale to kill you. I think it may be because of me. Willow feels that I left to get away from you.”

“So, the danger I’m in is still because of you?” Spike asked with a bitter tone. Dropping his hand from the door handle, Spike turned back to face Buffy and was shocked to find her eyes glittering with tears. Taking a step closer to her, Spike looked down into her emerald green gaze and asked, “Did you leave because of me?”

If Buffy’s heart was still beating, she was sure it would have skipped several times as Spike moved closer towards her. Scared of her mounting feelings towards the Slayer, Buffy had kept them a secret, even to herself. Did she really want to let Spike know that she cared for him? Would he laugh at her if she told him? Mustering up as much courage as she could fathom, Buffy said, “Yes.”

“Why? Why would you leave when the one person you wanted to kill more than anything else was here?” Unconsciously the two blondes had closed the gap between them and were now so close that Spike could smell the faint orchid smell emanating from Buffy, making his head and heart swoon with desire. 

“Because I didn’t want to kill you anymore.’ Buffy admitted her voice barely a whisper as she gazed upwards into Spike’s stormy blue eyes. They were so close now that any slight movement and their bodies would touch. Buffy ached, desperate for contact with Spike. Tentatively, Buffy moved her arm forward and slipped her tiny hand inside Spike’s, praying that he would not jump away from her touch. She was filled with joy when Spike not only kept his hand tightly wrapped around hers, but moved closer towards her; their bodies now pressing against one another. Buffy trembled when she felt the moist warmth of his breath as he spoke.

“Not kill me, huh? Then, what did you want to do, luv?” Spike barely choked out, his voice a harsh whisper. Buffy’s firm breasts pressed against his chest as she took deep unneeded breaths. Spike’s mind swam with uncertainty and he knew that he shouldn’t be this close to a Master Vampire. Not to mention that she was the one that had nearly brought him to his death once before. However, his passion for the tiny beauty combined with his intoxicated state did nothing to pull him away from her. Instead, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer to his body; grinding against her taut abdomen with his raging erection.

The air around them was thick with desire. Buffy felt an instant flood of moisture between her legs as Spike ground his shaft against her center. When he leaned closer to her face, Buffy panted, “Fuck…you. I wanted to fuck you!” Wrapping her hands around his neck, Buffy covered Spike’s lips with her own; devouring him. She gasped with surprise when Spike twirled them around and slammed her back against the cold metal of the bathroom stall. Lifting up her legs, Buffy clamped them around his narrow hips and writhed against his body; the sodden material of her underwear dampening the front of his jeans. Mentally, she chastised herself for changing out of her thong before leaving the house, the new pair making it very difficult to do what she really wanted to do.

Spike was lost, his mind completely focused on the task at hand, which at the moment consisted of getting Buffy’s underwear off and his dick inside of her. Unfortunately, he was having a difficult time getting his hands to cooperate. He mentally cursed himself for drinking so much. With an almost feral growl, Spike ripped the black spandex away from her body and tossed them on the floor. In a flash, his zipper was lowered by Buffy’s trembling hand and Spike had his throbbing cock poised at her entrance. Just as Spike was about to ram into Buffy’s cool channel, he was distracted by the sound of someone entering the bathroom. A second later they were interrupted by the annoyed sound of someone clearing their throat. Looking over, Spike was faced with a stern look from an extremely displeased employee. 

“You guys finished or do I need to tell everyone to go outside?” The overly muscled bouncer asked with his arms crossed over his puffed out chest. “I’ve had complaints.”

Slowly easing Buffy to the floor, Spike adjusted tucked his stiff cock back inside his pants; his face flaming red with embarrassment. “Sorry mate, got a bit carried away.”

Buffy lowered her skirt and kicked the tattered underwear under the stall, out of sight. She briefly considered flashing her fangs at the man so that he would leave and they could get back to the matter at hand, but reconsidered, figuring that doing so would not increase her chances with the Slayer. Instead, she sulked, her bottom lip poked out and a pitiful look plastered on her face. “Sorry.” 

“No big deal, it happens all the time.” The bouncer said with a much nicer tone this time, falling prey to the charms of the seductively innocent vampire. With a swing of his beefy arms, he motioned that it was time for them to leave the bathroom. 

Once outside in the hallway, Buffy pressed Spike against the wall so that they were partially shrouded in the darkness. After placing a feather light kiss to his swollen lips, Buffy whispered, “Come find me later. You know where I will be.”


	16. Chapter 16

Eyes closed, Spike rammed his cock deep inside her quivering channel; gasping and grunting for air as his orgasm approached. As her body quaked beneath his, Spike felt her nails rake across his back causing a sharp pain to scorch through his body as tiny droplets of blood slipped down his heated skin. With one final thrust, Spike spilled his release into her awaiting core, hot semen spurting forward as his scream of pleasure echoed in the spacious living room.

“Oh, Buffy! Fuck, you feel so good…” Spike murmured against the delicate column of her neck, his words barely louder than a whispered pant, but loud enough for his lover to hear. His body was still quivering with pleasure when he heard a wild shriek of anger coming from below him and he was launched off the couch, landing dangerously close to the glass coffee table. With a look of confusion, not to mention intoxication, Spike crawled into a crouched position and looked questioningly at his raven haired girlfriend.  
“What the bleeding hell was that for, Dru?!” 

“You sorry son of a bitch!” Drusilla whispered, her voice dripping with fury. “Who in the fucking hell is Buffy?” As if she were trying to protect herself, Drusilla snatched the quilt that was tossed across the back of the couch and wrapped it around her naked form. Tears glistened in her eyes as she struggled to control her emotions, focusing on her anger and not sadness. Deep in her heart, she had always known that Spike’s true love had belonged to someone else, but she never wanted to admit that horrible truth to herself.

Spike stared wide eyed with shock at his girlfriend, not wanting to believe that he had been callous enough to say another woman’s name during sex. “Dru…pet, I didn’t mean it.” Still on his knees, Spike shuffled forward and tried to take her into his arms. Tears were now streaming down Drusilla’s face as she backed away from him and all Spike could do was sink to the floor in shame.

“I didn’t ask if you mean to do it. I asked who the hell Buffy is.” Her chest was heaving as she gasped through her sobs for air. Painful recognition seeped into her consciousness as Spike’s crystal blue eyes stared up at her, a faint memory of a conversation long ago played through Drusilla’s mind. ‘Her name was Buffy…and she almost killed me.’   
Shaking her head in disbelief, Drusilla scrambled over the back of the couch. “She’s the one. I always knew you were in love with someone else, but I never imagined…” Her voice trailed off as she moved towards the stairs, heading to her bedroom. “Just go, Spike. Leave…and don’t come back.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Spike had left Drusilla’s townhouse confused and upset with no direction in mind. For several hours he wandered aimlessly around the darkened town, finally ending up in front of the looming house that he knew Buffy called home. 

His next movements seemed to be done on autopilot, his body moving forward on its own without instruction from his brain. Inside, his mind was screaming at him to stop, turn around and go home, but somehow he ended up walking through the endless halls in search of her bedroom. 

The soft light of flickering candles filtered around the edges of a partially opened door and Spike was drawn to the golden haze like a moth to a flame. Pushing the heavy oak door open slowly without a sound, he stood framed in the doorway and stared at the sight before him; totally entranced by her beauty.

Buffy was curled on one side, one slender leg thrown around the blood red silken sheets; her flaxen hair flowed across the pillows as she slept. Mesmerized by the sight of Buffy, Spike felt his heart beat wildly in his chest and his cock harden with desire. 

“You plan on standing there all night and staring or what?” Buffy asked as she slowly rolled over and stretched languidly like a feline.

‘I…um…I…well, what I mean…” Spike stammered as his concentration was blown when Buffy arched delicately while she stretched. A fierce blush crept up his neck and enflamed his cheeks when the edge of the sheet dipped down, uncovering part of her chest to allow one perfectly globed breast to pop out. Averting his gaze quickly, Spike nervously shuffled from one foot to the other while he attempted to make conversation, but once again failing to do anything other than babble wildly.

“Very well put, Slayer.” Buffy commented with a hint of sarcasm behind her amused smile. Noticing that Spike was quickly turning a shade of red that almost matched her sheets, Buffy decided to torment him further by sitting up so that the rest of her covers fell to her waist. Reaching out, she lightly patted an area of the bed next to her and said, “Sit down, take a load off. You seem…tensed, Spike.”

Hesitantly, Spike crossed the small span of carpet between them and perched cautiously on the edge of the bed. “Tense, you say? Doesn’t even begin to describe what I am feeling right now.” With a wry expression on his face, Spike cocked his head slightly to gaze back at Buffy who was sliding off the bed. He watched intently as she wrapped a short, black robe around her slender frame and silently wished she had not put it on.

Once Buffy tied the silken garment, she went around the front of the bed and sat down next to him.

“All right, so tell me about it. You seemed to be doing okay when I left you at the club, what happened between now and then?” She inquired, honestly wondering what was on his mind. When she had left him in the hallway at the Bronze, Buffy had slipped up to the balcony and watched Spike as he went back to his friends. It didn’t take her too long to realize that the dark haired waif in the group was more to Spike than just a friend. Curiosity had got the better of her, forcing Buffy from her hiding spot and following inebriated couple on their walk home. She had watched them, hidden beneath the shadows of a willow tree, as the entwined couple barely made it inside the house. There was an ache inside Buffy that she could not describe as she watched Spike and his lover enter the darkened house; tears had fallen from her eyes when the door shut, blocking them from her view, leaving her alone on the outside. Now, as she sat next to him, the faint aroma of sex wafting through the air, Buffy though that her heart might just break into a thousand pieces. Mustering up the courage to hear about Spike’s love life, the one that didn’t include her, Buffy said “Come on. Spill. I’ll be like Dr. Phil or something?”

Spike cocked his scared eyebrow in her direction. “Right, like you really want to hear all about my sodding evening?” When Buffy nodded her head and motioned for him to continue. Spike shook his head in disbelief and figured that his night couldn’t get any weirder. “All right then, no laughing when I finish, though. I have a girlfriend. I know I should have told you; hell I shouldn’t have been tearing at your knickers in the bathroom, but for whatever reason I never mentioned her. Drusilla, that’s her name…well, we’ve been together for a little over a year now. Pretty much since you left back then I guess. Anyway, went home with her…had sex and was a right wanker.” Spike stopped, unsure of how to proceed with the story. Embarrassed as hell that he not only said Buffy’s name during sex, but that he was about to admit it to her as well. 

“So, what’d ya do? On with the good stuff!” Buffy prodded, slightly poking Spike in the side to encourage him to finish the story. “Pass out on her or something? You were drunk as a skunk last time I saw you.”

“Wish it were that simple, luv.” Spike muttered as he ran his hands over his face and threw his already tousled locks. Taking a deep breath, he decided to say it as fast as possible and just get the secret out in the open. “Isaidyournameduringsex.” Spike forced himself to turn and look at Buffy after several seconds of horrendous silence. 

“You…you…you said my name?” Buffy whispered. Her emerald eyes were open wide as she tried to process what Spike had just told her. She was sure that if it were possible, her heart would have started beating at that moment. Throwing caution to the wind, Buffy leaned forward and captured Spike’s lips in a crushing embrace; pouring all of her emotions into that one kiss.

Momentarily caught of guard, Spike froze when Buffy’s soft lips pressed against his, but finally melted into her embrace. Passion took over and he reached out to pull Buffy tightly against his body, arms clenching her in his embrace. Frantically pawing at one another, pent up lust and desire aching to be released, their clothes were shed within seconds. 

As much as Buffy wanted this moment to be cherished, slow and tender, her hormones got the better of her as she roughly pushed Spike onto his back; desperate to feel his rigid shaft inside her trembling core. Crawling up his body, Buffy placed her knees along his sides and guided his cock inside her pussy with a shaky hand. Not accustomed as of late to having a dick inside of her, much less one of Spike’s substantial girth, Buffy was forced to move slowly as she sank down onto the turgid shaft. He filled every inch of her and Buffy sighed with satisfaction when her body finally adjusted around him. Lifting up, Buffy looked down at Spike before thrusting herself back down again; their eyes connecting in a heated glare. 

Spike’s mouth literally watered at the sight before him as he watched Buffy bounce across his lap. Reaching out, he grasped her rounded hips and dug his fingers into the buttery flesh as he thrust up into her. Pulling his feet up near his ass, Spike flipped them over, pressing Buffy into the mattress with a surprised yelp. With one hand he reached down and grabbed hold of Buffy’s tiny ankle and lifting her leg upward to place it over his shoulder, instantly pushing his dick deeper into her cunt. As he pumped away forcefully, the power behind each thrust causing them both a desirable sense of both pleasure and pain, Spike briefly thought that he could never have been this rough with a normal girl. A devious grin spread across his beautiful features as he realized that he liked that idea and reached for her other leg to toss over his shoulders as well.

Buffy’s ass was in the air and she was blissfully happy as Spike plowed into her with alarming speed and accuracy; hitting places inside her that no other man had ever been able to. With her hands wrapped firmly around the cool metal bars of her headboard, she pushed against his thrusts with supernatural strength; unneeded pants of breath coming out between each scream of pleasure. When the tales tell tingling of her approaching orgasm bloomed at her core, Buffy let go of her leverage, lowered her legs and reached out to pull Spike closer to her; capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. With one final thrust of Spike’s hips against hers, Buffy gave way to her orgasm and screamed her praises loudly. She smiled, totally sated as her lover joined in her release, screaming her name as his hot seed shot deep into her cold womb. 

As the sun began to creep over the horizon, they drifted off to sleep still entwined; Spike’s softening cock nestled between Buffy’s delicate folds and her face tucked safely against the smooth skin of his neck. It never crossed Spike’s mind that allowing a vampire to sleep that close to his jugular wasn’t the best idea; instead, for the first time in months, he fell asleep with a content smile on his face.


	17. Chapter 17

Disoriented, Spike shot up straight in the bed and looked around at his surroundings; taking in the disheveled bed and the petite blonde that lay curled up in the middle, sleeping peacefully. He scrubbed his hands over his face and ran them through his tousled locks as he pieced together the events from the night before, only to find that bits and pieces were missing thanks to the alcohol he had consumed. With a look of fright plastered on his face, Spike untangled the sheets from around his body, crawled out of the massive silk covered bed and darted to the other side of the room; all the while chanting, “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” 

Swooping down to pick up scattered articles of clothing from the floor, Spike busied himself by quickly getting dressed. “What have I done?!” He muttered to himself, stuffing his feet into his boots and clumsily tying the laces; all the while unaware that his ramblings had awakened the vampire behind him. 

A slow smile of happiness brightened Buffy’s features as she awakened and stretched languidly before sitting up. She watched Spike for a minute, drinking in the sight of him, before crawling to the edge of the bed. Halfway through her journey, Buffy stopped cold when she finally understood the words that Spike was mumbling. “Spike,” she asked, timidly, reaching out to place a shaky hand on his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?!” Spike cried incredulously, literally flying off the bed and away from Buffy. “Is there anything about this situation that isn’t wrong?”

“Again with the what and the huh?”

“What in the bleeding hell was I possibly thinking last night? Coming here of all places, shagging my mortal enemy! I must be out of my fucking mind! Not only fucking a vampire, but bloody sleeping next one who killed her husband, what in the hell was going through my mind?” Spike’s rant had brought on a flush of color, his face and neck stained bright pink with frustration and anger. As he stalked from one corner to the other, arms flying and cuss words spilling from his mouth, Spike paid no attention to Buffy. When he finally stopped pacing and turned to look in her direction, Spike asked, “Why the hell are you crying? What…forgot to drain me dry after fucking me like you did your husband? What was his name? Riley?”

“I…I wasn’t planning on killing you or hurting you in anyway. Not at all, I came back here to help you.” Buffy whispered, pulling her knees up to rest her quivering chin on. “And, as far as Riley goes, you don’t know the whole story. No one does.” 

“Doesn’t rightly matter now does it? Dead, bloodless husband drained by not so loving wife, what more does one need to know, Buffy?” Spike spat, his temper had reached its peak, words spewing from his mouth with seething rage. Grabbing his duster that was draped over a cream colored chair, he turned and pointed towards Buffy. “And this, whatever the hell last night was, didn’t happen as far as I am concerned. Stay away from me, my friends and my family unless you have a strong desire to be dust. Is that understood?” Spike flung open the bedroom door and stormed out, not waiting for a response from Buffy whose silent tears had turned into full blown sobbing as she crumpled into a heap in the center of the bed.

He made it halfway home before his temper finally began to cool down and his conscience made its presence known. Not only did he have to find out a way to apologize to Drusilla, but something in his heart ached because of the way he had treated Buffy. After several long blocks, Spike stopped in his tracks, turned around and headed back in the direction he had come from. Within minutes, he was nervously shuffling from one foot to another as he debated if he should knock or just go inside. Deciding on the latter, figuring that if he knocked Buffy would more than likely not answer; Spike slowly eased the front door open and went inside. 

When he got to her bedroom, the door still standing wide open from his abrupt departure, the sight he was greeted with made his heart break a little more. Buffy was curled up on her side, still in the center of the bed, the silk sheets pulled protectively around her naked form as she sobbed into the mattress; her body shaking violently as she gasped deeply for unneeded oxygen. Tentatively, Spike stepped inside the softly lit room and stood at the end of the bed.

“What do you want now?” Buffy asked between hiccups and sniffles. “Just couldn’t stand not being mean to me some more? Wanted one more round of Kick-the-Buffy?”

“I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that, pet. I apologize, I was a bad rude man and it was uncalled for.” With his eyes downcast, staring at a very interesting speck on the carpet, Spike could feel his old insecurities growing inside as he waited for a response from Buffy. In a matter of seconds Spike felt the shield of a well constructed bad boy image slipping away and the tell tale signs of his former self returning. If Buffy didn’t say something soon, Spike was sure that poncy William would be babbling soon. Finally, Spike looked up and saw that she was now sitting upright with the silken sheet clutched at her heart and gazing at him expectantly. “So, um…can we talk?”

“Sure, apology accepted. Take a load off, Slayer.” After wiping the tears from her eyes, Buffy reached over the side of the bed and retrieved the black silk robe from the night before and put it on. “What’s the topic gonna be?”

“You said that no one knew the whole story about what happened with your husband and I was wondering if maybe you would tell me.” Spike gnawed on his lip as he waited for her answer.

“Exactly what do you want to know, how or why I did it?” Buffy asked wryly, “Cuz’ if it’s the how, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.”

“The why part, luv. Actually, one part specifically has always intrigued me. The way my Watcher told the story, he never mentioned anyone else in the house being killed and since it was way back when, I would assume there were servants present, right?”

“Yep, there were plenty of them roaming around the grounds. Riley was actually pretty well off for that time, had the big house and lots of property that needed gobs of servants to deal with it. Why?”

“Well, why aren’t there any records of them being killed? One would assume that an evil soulless vampire would have massacred everyone in the household.”

“It wasn’t them that I was after, Slayer.” Doubt filled Buffy’s mind as she contemplated telling Spike the entire story with all of the gory details. “Do you really want to know why my husband was the only victim? I mean really want to know the reason? It’s not pretty and you cannot judge me for what I did, all right? Not if I tell you.” At Spike’s eager nodding, Buffy began her tale. “The night that I was killed Riley and I were on our way home from my parent’s house. We had had dinner with them in order to share our news. You know, no phone and all made telling people things difficult. Anyway, we were a couple of miles from the house and it was a horrible night; cold and rain mixed with snow. Not pleasant. 

Well, there was a ruckus and the next thing I know, we were out of the carriage and on the freezing ground. Henry, our coachman, was lying just up ahead. I could tell that he was dead by the angle his neck was bent, but his eyes were still full of fright. I remember screaming for help and scrambling to my feet to find Riley. I couldn’t find him anywhere, I was so scared. That’s when they got me, while I was standing there in the middle of the road crying my pathetic eyes out. Willow laughed at me and taunted me because my husband had left me alone; pointing in the direction that he had run away like a frightened little girl. When she lunged at me, I ran in the direction of the house but my dress made it too hard. Eventually they got me, Willow did the most damage. She was the one who drained me, then fed me from her wrist. Xander took a few sips, but by the time he started I had already fainted. 

Anyways, I guess you already know most of that. The who’s and the how’s of being a vampire. What I haven’t told you is why I was so mad at Riley for leaving me alone to be murdered. I was pregnant, Spike. About two months along and he left me and our unborn child to be happy meals for the undead. Is that a good enough reason to kill him, Slayer?”


	18. Chapter 18

Later that afternoon, Spike untangled himself from Buffy’s embrace and gathered his scattered clothing; mindful not to awaken the slumbering vampire. As he laced his boots, Spike tried to convince himself that the only reason he was being so quite was because they had gotten very little sleep over the course of the day and pushed away his nagging conscience that was calling him a coward.

When Buffy had confided in him about her past and the real reason behind killing her husband, Spike had taken one look into her tear filled eyes and pulled her into his arms. As her tears dried, they had tumbled back into the bed, kissing fervently; both needing something different from the embrace. Buffy had found comfort, while Spike had drowned in her passion; pushing his fears to the corners of his mind. 

Now, as Spike pulled on his boots, he stared at her sleeping form. Naked, sprawled across the bed, one arm stretched out to the side of the bed that Spike had occupied moments before as if searching for him, Spike was mesmerized by her beauty. With strength he hadn’t know he possessed, Spike stood up from the wing backed chair and headed for the door. His hand was wrapped around the doorknob, ready to make a quiet departure, when her muffled words weakened his resolve.

“Spike?” Buffy mumbled, scooting further across the bed in search of the searing warmth his body radiated. Not finding what she was looking for, Buffy finally opened her eyes wide and looked around the room; settling on the frozen Slayer at the door. “Spike?” She asked again, this time with a worried tremble in her whispered words. 

“I…uh…didn’t want to wake you, pet. ‘s getting late and I have things to do…patrol and all.” He explained, shuffling from one foot to the other and glancing nervously around the room. Truth was, he had plans with his friends to celebrate Fred’s birthday and as much as he had enjoyed their night of passion, Spike was not ready to face explaining whatever sordid relationship that was blossoming between him and Buffy to his friends. At least, until he figured out what actually was going on between them and what his feelings for the insatiable blonde vampire really were.

“Oh.” Was all that Buffy managed to choke out; her normally chatterbox self failing to make its presence known. Fearing rejection, she pushed down the desire to ask if she would see him later that night. Sitting up, Buffy reached for the previously discarded black silk robe and attempted to put it on but was having a difficult time since her hands were shaking nervously.

“I’m going to a birthday party at the Bronze.” Spike admitted, shoulders sagging in defeat. The hurt look in Buffy’s green eyes as she struggled for something to say had gone straight to his heart, leading to his confession. “Pet, look at me, please.” He asked, crossing the room and perching on the bed beside her. “They can’t take it right now…meeting you and knowing about us; whatever we are. If my friends hadn’t been there that night,” Spike paused and took her hand in his, “I would have died. You would have killed me. I can’t hurt them like that before I truly know what is really going on between us. They can’t know you are here.” Sitting there beside her, Spike hated to admit to himself that Buffy’s tear filled eyes didn’t bother him; didn’t make his heart clench with fear at the thoughts running through his mind. When she nodded silently and stood up, his hands itched to reach for her, but somehow he managed to keep his hands to himself. “Listen, I really have to go. Duty calls before partying, pigeon….I’ll see you later, yeah?” Standing up, Spike reached out and brushed a stray strand of golden locks from across her face and tucked it behind her ear before turning towards the door.

“Yeah, later.” Buffy responded with a devious smile as a plan formed in her mind. Pushing herself off the bed, Buffy headed towards the bathroom with a bounce in her step. “Have fun tonight.”

Confused by her sudden change in demeanor, Spike could only shake his head in wonder since Buffy had disappeared behind the bathroom door and instantly locked him out. Grabbing his duster, Spike left the mansion and began the boring walk home.

 

Inside the locked bathroom, Buffy busied herself by filling the claw footed tub with nearly boiling hot water; adding a few drops of vanilla bath oil just before easing down into the tub. Sighing with pleasure, she languidly soaked in the scented water until she could feel the moon start to rise; signaling that it was time to prepare for the night’s festivities. After shaving her legs and trimming the curls at the apex of her thighs neatly, Buffy got out of the tub and wrapped a fluffy white towel around her body. Padding barefoot into the bedroom, Buffy busied herself by digging through the closet until she found the perfect outfit. Grinning devilishly, Buffy said, “Silly Slayer forgot to say I wasn’t allowed to go out if his friends couldn’t recognize me.”

 

Having shown up to the birthday celebration nearly two hours late because patrol turned out to be more hectic than he had planned, Spike had a great deal of catching up to do. Grabbing a drink from the bar, Spike headed towards the booth where his friends were sitting. 

“Man, it’s about time you showed up!” Gunn exclaimed, “Guess Dru kept you busy after you guys got home last night, huh?”

“Um…right, ‘bout that…Drusilla and I broke up last night.” Spike muttered as he slid into the cracked vinyl booth next to the birthday girl. Leaning over, he placed a kiss on her cheek and said, “Sorry I was late, ducks. Patrol was busier than I had expected.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. You’re here now, right?” Fred stammered, her cheeks blushing profusely thanks to the unrequited torch she held close to her heart for Spike. “Sorry to hear about you and Drusilla. Are you ok?”

“Dru and I obviously weren’t meant to be. I’ll be fine, don’worry about me.” Spike assured Fred, oblivious to her blushing complexion as he always was.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine! ‘Course I’d be pretty damn fine if someone as hot as that lil’ blonde number was checking me out.” Gunn interjected with a drunken leer plastered across his face. 

“Blonde?” Angel inquired, “Where the hell was I at? Love me some blonde action.” 

“Huh? Blonde? Oh…uh…right, nothing happened there. She was just looking.” Spike replied hastily, figuring now was not the best time to tell his friends about the development between him and Buffy. After a few derogatory comments from Gunn, Spike was relieved when the conversation headed in another direction. 

Swirling the ice cubes around in his bourbon, Spike let his mind wander back to the previous night and was surprised when he realized he missed Buffy. Sitting silently, lost in his own thoughts, Spike nearly dropped his glass when he finally looked up and saw Buffy across the dance floor. “Bloody hell…” He muttered, body going rigid as he watched her dance seductively with a small group of obviously over-hormonal men.

“What is it, Spike?” Angel asked, noticing his best friend’s change in demeanor. Following Spike’s line of sight, Angel’s eyes rested on the slender woman dancing in front of them. With a petite, lithe figure wrapped in black vinyl low-rise pants and a maroon snake skin pattered strapless top with short raven colored hair, Angel thought the she was possibly the sexiest thing he had ever seen. “So that’s what’s got your attention, huh? Go bust in on them, man.” 

“Right, like a girl of that caliber is just going to drop all of those guys for Spike?” Gunn remarked with a challenging smirk. “I’ll bet the next round of drinks that he gets shot down on first contact.”

“I’ll take that bet, mate.” Spike pushed himself out of the booth and cockily strode toward the center of the dance floor where Buffy was currently gyrating against a hulk of a man. Casting a glance over his shoulder at his friends, Spike smirked and stepped up to the entwined couple. “Mind if I cut in?” 

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you.” Buffy pushed the other guy away and paid no attention to the objections that spewed from his mouth. Wrapping her arms around Spike’s neck, she pulled his face down to hers and captured his lips in a kiss. When she felt his hands slide down her body and come to a rest on her buttocks, pulling her groin against his suggestively, Buffy said, “I take it that my being here didn’t make you mad?” 

“Mad ‘s definitely not what ‘m feeling right now, pet. God, you look bloody amazing tonight.” Leaning down, Spike began nipping along her neck and suckling at her ear lobe. “Fuck, pet…wish we were somewhere a bit more private.” 

Buffy pulled herself away from his embrace and took his hand in hers, pulling him towards the back stairs that led to the balcony. “I’ve got a place in mind.”   
Spike paused for a moment in order to toss Gunn a triumphant smile and laugh at his friend’s bewildered expression before allowing Buffy to lead him through the throng of people on the dance floor. 

Once upstairs, Buffy was disappointed to find another couple sitting on the couch she had her sights set on. Getting their attention, she quickly flashed her game face and was pleased when they scurried down the stairs and out of her way. She led Spike over to the couch and pushed him back onto it; Buffy placed a leg on either side of his and straddled his lap. Hungrily, she attacked his lips with fervor; kissing him passionately until he was panting for air. 

“Fuck, pet…you've got no idea how hot you make me.” Spike murmured as he watched Buffy slide down so that she was kneeling between his legs. Reaching out to touch her black wig, he said, “As much as I am enjoying your new look, I miss your real hair, Goldilocks.” He started to pull the wig off when she stopped him.

“No taking off the disguise, Slayer.” Buffy warned as she reached for his zipper. “Can’t let your friends see who I really am. Now behave or I might just leave you up here all by your lonesome. You don’t want that do you?” By now, she had his pants unzipped and spread open enough that she was well aware that he had chosen not to wear underwear. Buffy leaned forward to lick and kiss along the exposed patch of skin; relishing in the whimpering noises coming from above. Just as she wrapped her tiny hand around his hardened shaft, the hairs on Buffy’s neck stood straight up and a chill ran down her spine. Eyes wide with fright, she said, “Spike, they’re here!”


	19. Chapter 19

“Don’t bloody care who’s here, pet.” Spike panted, thrusting the heated flesh of his shaft into Buffy’s cool palm that was still grasping him tightly. “Let ‘em enjoy the show.”

“What? No, not here here, Spike, like here in Sunnydale.” Buffy exclaimed exasperatedly as she quickly set to work stuffing his dick back into his pants; only to receive a growl of impatience from Spike. “Willow and Xander are in town, I can feel them.” 

“Right, tha’s a bit on the weird side. You feel them?” 

“That’s one of my many strange talents that have yet to be explored.” Buffy said wryly, extending a hand to help Spike off the cracked vinyl sofa. “For now, you need to make sure your little friends are tucked safely into their warm beds and do the same for you until I can find my insane, whack job sires and figure out what their plan is, ok?”

“What? You expect me to just run along home with my tail stuck between my legs like some simpering ponce? No bloody way!” 

“Please, Spike, for once in your life don’t cop an ‘All High and Mighty Slayer’ attitude with me. They are really strong and more powerful than any other monster that goes bump in the night that you have dealt with. You think I was tough? I’ve got nothing on them, except maybe the whole look into my eyes thingy. They are sick, Spike; evil down to the last drop. Xander, well he’s just along for the massacre. It’s Willow who has the vendetta against you. She’s the one that will make sure that not only you suffer, but anyone you care about will be a pawn in her sick little game.”

“Me? What the hell did I do to her?” 

“Um…well, that’s a topic that definitely needs to be dealt with some other time, ok? Don’t have the time right now, just please, go get your friends and make sure they get home so you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Fine, I’ll make sure they are taken care of, but I am not going home. If there are two new baddies in my town, I need to patrol.”

“Ok, whatever…just watch your back. I’m gonna go see if I can find them and figure out whatever they’re planning; which is going to be really hard since I reek of eau de Slayer.” Stepping closer to Spike, Buffy stood on the tips of her toes and lightly brushed a kiss across his lips. “I’ll find you later.” 

Spike stood rooted in place as he watched her retreating form disappear down the stairs and into the gyrating mass of bodies below. After a few moments, he mentally shook himself back into reality and followed in her footsteps in search for his friends. Spotting most of them sitting comfortably in the same booth as before, Spike weaved his way through the crowd until he was standing next to Gunn.

“Well, that didn’t take too long, stud.” Gunn stated sarcastically, grinning ear to ear. “Guess that means I’m off the hook for the next round, right?”

“Not now, Gunn.” Spike interjected, giving his friend a look that plainly stated that he wasn’t in the mood. “Look, something bad ‘s brewing and I need you and Angel to make sure that Fred gets home safely and then do the same for yourselves. Can you do that for me, mate? ‘ve got to go out and patrol until I know what exactly is going on.”

“Yeah, man. No problem. You sure you don’t need any help out there?” 

“Honestly, I probably do, but I’d feel better knowing everyone was all right.” Turning around to look out to the dance floor, he said, “Where is Fred by the way?”

“Shaking her groove thang with some guy she met at the bar. I think I see her up towards the stage.” 

“I’ll go get her so that I can apologize for ruining her birthday celebration and bring her back to you.” With a grim expression, Spike made his way towards Fred and interrupted her dancing; all the while being on the receiving end of a nasty look from the guy next to her. After a brief explanation and apology, Spike brushed a kiss across her check and promised to do something extra special once everything settled down. 

After dropping Fred off with Gunn and Angel, Spike finally left the club and headed towards town in search of Willow and Xander. What he hadn’t expected though, was to run straight into Tara in front of the coffee shop down town.

“S...s…pike, what a s..s…surprise!” She stuttered as she juggled a cup of coffee and a stack of books.

“Bit late for studying don’ you think?” Spike asked, reaching out quickly to catch a wayward book before it tumbled to the ground. He caught a glimpse of the cover before handing it back to Tara. “Mating Rituals of Vampires? Doesn’ sound like something from the required reading list.”

“Oh, uh…it’s just a strange hobby of mine, really; vampires, werewolves, ghosts and goblins and what not. So, what are you doing tonight?”

“Er…on my way home from a party.” Spike fibbed. 

“Ah, an illustrious social life, something I seem to be lacking lately. I’m heading home, myself.” Tara kidded, nodding head in the direction of her apartment.

“Well then, wouldn’t be too gentlemanly of me if I didn’ walk you home.” Figuring offering to walk her home was a safe cover for making sure she got there in once piece and didn’t blow his Slayer cover. While his closer friends new about his sacred duty, Spike preferred not to spread the word around; although he always suspected that Tara knew more about his alter ego than she let on, never questioning his sudden disappearing acts or the presence of stakes in his book bag at study sessions. 

After taking the cumbersome books from Tara, the two began the trek across town to her small, but quaint apartment was located. As with most areas in Sunnydale, a slight jaunt through a graveyard provided them with a shortcut and Spike groaned loudly when he heard the tell tale sounds of a tussle from inside the supposed peaceful resting grounds. Pausing long enough to set the books on a nearby tombstone, Spike headed inside the darkened graveyard after telling Tara to stay put.

Stake in hand, Spike cautiously approached what appeared to be two figures locked in a grappling session near a towering crypt. Moving closer, he tried to remain unseen until directly upon the attacking vampire; but a wayward twig on the ground crunched beneath his weight and blew his cover. Gaining the vampire’s attention, Spike barely noticed when the sobbing victim used his presence as a chance to escape. 

“ ‘s not very nice to pick on someone smaller than you, mate. Or are you too big of a coward to fight someone your own size?” Spike taunted the vampire as he mindlessly twirled his trusty stake around with his fingers.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was so much as picking as smart planning, Slayer. Figured hearing a damsel in distress would be the fastest way to get your attention.” The vampire snarled, his fangs bared and face rigid with his demon form. 

“Is that right? Well, here I am and it seems that your little meal has scampered off. So, wha’ was so bloody important?” Slowly, Spike edged closer to the shaggy haired brunette vampire. 

“Come on now, no need to be rude. I just thought all of us could have some good old fashioned fun. Whattya think?” A sarcastic smirk was plastered across his face as the vampire casually strolled towards Spike.

“All of us? Might want to have your eyesight checked because there’s only two of here, mate.” Now within striking distance to the bloodsucker, Spike rested slightly on his back foot and prepared for an attack. Seeing the vampire’s amber eyes cut to the left, towards the entrance to the graveyard, Spike followed his line of vision and tried to push away the fear creeping into his stomach when a cruel chuckled escaped past the creature’s elongated fangs. 

“Oh goody, the guests have arrived. Time for the party to start, Slayer.” With a grand sweeping of his arm, the vampire motioned towards the approaching figures. 

Spike’s stomach curdled with fright and dread as he realized that what he was seeing was Tara, practically being dragged across the damp grass of the graveyard by an oddly familiar red headed woman. “Willow…” Spike whispered, his voice clenching with terror as the realization of the situation he had placed his friend into finally settled in his mind. With a fierce growl, Spike aimed his stake at the petite red head and prepared for attack; only to be stopped by a sharp blow to the side of the head.

Stumbling slightly, Spike turned to his assailant, who calmly stated, “Wouldn’t try that if I were you. With her reflexes, your little girlfriend’s neck will be ripped to shreds before you can save her.” 

“So, I guess tha’ means that I go after you then, right? And, it’s Xander, I presume.” Spike replied snarkily, trying not to let Tara’s frightful whimpers not distract him so much.

“I see my reputation precedes me. Or, better yet, my wayward grandchilde filled you in on all the gory details about me and Willow.” Xander smiled slowly and began to circle Spike, who was still in fight position and ready for an attack from either side. “I can smell her all over you, Slayer. Little double crossing bitch, always sniffing around Slayers. I figured it was just a hop and skip until she started fucking them instead of killing them. Course, I don’t really mind doing that for her.” With unnatural speed, Xander flung himself at Spike and punching him in the temple; causing them both to fall to the damp ground. Rolling around in between the gravestones, fists flew and fangs snapped as the Slayer and vampire wrestled for control. Blood seeped from wounds that gaped open from bashing's against tombstones and well placed punches to the face. 

Staggering to his feet, Spike lashed out and grabbed hold of Xander’s arm, tossing him against a nearby crypt. He leaned over to grab the vampire again, but was jerked backwards by Willow, who had left her victim long enough to assist her sire. Long, razor sharp talons gripped his arms and tore through his pale blue sleeves; Spike felt warm rivulets of blood begin to soak his bicep. Struggling against her hold, Spike was finally able to regain his footing and pushed the crazed vampiress off his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her crawl back over to Tara; who was unconscious and laying on the ground. In the midst of Xander’s attack, Spike didn’t notice that his friend had been hurt.

“Tara!” Spike cried as he staggered towards her unmoving form; only to be stopped by a cold hand circling his neck. Held in place by Xander’s tight grip, Spike gasped for air as he was forced to watch as Willow pulled Tara into her lap and slowly licked along her jugular. 

“One move and she’s a goner, Slayer.” Xander hissed against Spike’s ear as he turned him around to look into his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, the vampire tilted the slayer’s neck slightly to the side; his golden eyes twinkling with anticipation as his head descend. 

Nearly unconscious from lack of oxygen, Spike eyes fluttered closed as he made a futile attempt to struggle against his impending death. As darkness began to creep into his line of vision, Spike vaguely had the sense of falling as an inhuman cry pierced the night. Forcing his eyes open, Spike stared up into a set of shimmering green eyes as a cloud of dust fluttered to the ground between them.


	20. Chapter 20

Dazed, Spike remained on the ground trying to catch his breath as he gazed upward at Buffy. A brief moment of understanding passed through both warriors as one lone tear drop trickled down the blonde vampire’s face; making Spike realize how difficult dusting her grandsire must have been for her and that Buffy had done it anyway in order to save his life. “Buf…” Spike started, his words coming to a screeching halt when Buffy’s beautiful features morphed; her demon bursting forward with an inhuman growl. 

“Spike!” She growled, moving into a fighter’s stance, “Get your friend and get out of here…NOW!” 

Objection was on the tip of his tongue as he hastily scrambled to his feet when he spotted a very pissed off red headed vampire to his left. Golden eyes raged with fury and fangs glistened in the light of the nearly full moon resting high above the graveyard; her snarls of anger sent chills down Spike’s spine. Realizing that Willow was focused solely on Buffy, Spike slowly backed away in the direction of Tara; trying not to bring any attention to his actions. Before leaning over to pickup his semi-conscious friend, Spike cautiously glanced at Buffy; silently offering her his help. 

“Go!” Was her only response besides a slight shake of the head, her eyes never strayed; staying locked with Willow’s. Grabbing Tara around the waist, Spike tossed her over his shoulder and quickly walked towards the wrought iron gated entrance; turning back to check on Buffy before leaving all together; just in time to see the enraged red head leap towards her wayward childe with an ear piercing scream of anger. Ready for attack, Buffy sprang forward to latch onto her sire midair; before tumbling to the ground in a flurry of claws and screams of rage. Spike paused for a moment, considering going back to help Buffy, but changed his mind when Tara began to stir in his arms; moaning lightly in pain. Swiftly, Spike headed out of the cemetery and walked down the street before stopping at a bench to put Tara down on.

“Tara? Are you awake, ducks?” Spike asked, brushing her flaxen hair out of her eyes. “Come on…talk to me.” He stared down at her and started smiling when her eyes started to flutter open. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh…what happened, Spike?” Tara asked, wincing in pain as she rubbed at her neck; surprised to find a small wound. Pulling her hand away, she stared at the blood smeared across the palm. “Spike?”

“I think you may need to go to the hospital, pet. Just to be on the safe side, yeah?” Letting her lean against him for support, Spike led Tara down the empty streets towards the hospital. Mentally, for once he was grateful that everyone in the small town knew what slinked around in the dark of the night; which meant that the hospital employees would be less likely to question the tiny puncture marks on Tara’s slender neck.

About an hour and a half later, Spike was sitting next to Tara, who was propped up in a garishly lit hospital room after being pumped full of fresh O negative blood. While still a sickly pale color, Tara seemed to have brightened up a bit in mood and was adamantly questioning Spike about his involvement with vampires. 

“So, you ‘re the Slayer, huh?” She asked her voice full of awe. “That’s so cool. I’ve read about the legend of one man put on Earth to fight the ‘forces of evil’, but I never would have thought that I knew him personally.” Distractedly, Tara picked at the tray of vitamin rich food that a nurse had brought in a few minutes earlier.

“The one and only, I’m afraid.” Spike replied wryly, snatching a grape off her plate. “Not as glamorous as it’s made out to be though. Lots of unexplainable wounds an’ trips to the graveyard don’ exactly make for a good time, yeah?”

“So, um…what was that whole thing earlier about? Why those vamps after you in particular and don’t say it was because you are the Slayer, because even I could tell it was more personal and I was halfway passed out at the time.”

“Xander, tha’s the now dusty vamp that attacked me, the red head is Willow. From what I can tell they are rightly brassed off at me because of something their lil’ protégé has done; who you probably don’t remember, but showed up in time to save both of our arses.”

“You’re not telling me the whole story and I know that because I can see it in your shifty eyes, William. What are you leaving out? And, why would another vampire kill their sire in order to save a Slayer? Aren’t you guys like mortal enemies?”

“Have I ever told you how much I like your intuitiveness?” Spike snarkily replied before kicking back in the world’s most uncomfortable chair. “Ok, the bird’s name is Buffy and yeah, we use to have the whole fight to the death thing going on until a couple of days ago. Tha’s when my entire world went wonky.”

“Wonky? Where did you come up with that word?” Tara interjected with a light chuckle, which immediately caused her to wince in pain at the cracked rib she was suffering from.

“Must’ve picked it up from Buffy, she’s always saying ridiculous things like that.” Spike paused and allowed a smile to creep onto his slightly bruised face. “I wonder how’s she’s doing anyway. Left her alone to fend for herself with Willow; they were fighting to the death when I was carrying you out of the graveyard.”

“Why’d you leave her if she means so much to you?”

“I never said how I feel about her, Tara, and I had to get you to safety. Buggered everything up by walking you home anyway; shoulda just went along my merry way and let you get yourself home. Would’ve ran into them on my own and you wouldn’t be in the hospital.”

“Spike, I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t be worried about her if you didn’t feel something for her; whatever it may be. Personally, I think it’s kinda romantic; like star crossed lovers from a Shakespeare play. And, you were doing what you thought was right when you offered to walk me home. You had no idea what was going to happen, so stop blaming yourself. I’ll be fine and dandy in no time, you’ll see.” Tara paused long enough to yawn loudly. “I think I’m going to go to sleep now and you should probably do the same, you look beat.”

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night anyway. You get some rest, luv, and I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on you.” Spike walked over to Tara’s bedside and placed a kiss to her temple before starting for the door.

“Oh…and Spike, whatever you decide to do about Buffy I’ll be cool with it. She saved my life, too!” Tara called out to Spike’s retreating form before he disappeared out the door.

 

It was nearing two in the morning when Spike finally strolled up his driveway; shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Dragging his feet up the porch, he stifled a scream when he saw someone sitting in the darkened corner on the porch swing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Buffy said as she walked over to him. Hesitantly, she tenderly brushed her fingers across the rapidly healing gash on Spike’s cheek. “How’s your friend?”

“The doctor said Tara will be fine. He made her stay overnight and get a transfusion since she lost a good deal of blood.” Silence washed over them, both uncertain about what to say to one another. “I wasn’t sure I would see you again, luv.”

“Honestly, me either.” Buffy whispered as she leaned into Spike’s awaiting embrace. “Could we go inside, I don’t really feel too safe out here. Or would your Dad mind me being here?”

“He’s out of the country, pet.” Releasing his hold on Buffy, Spike turned toward the door and unlocked it. Once it was firmly closed behind them and he turned on the foyer light, Spike was able to see the damage that the enraged vampire had inflicted on Buffy. “What did she do to you?” He asked, cringing at the amount of blood covering her head and shoulders. Buffy appeared to have a nasty head wound and numerous scratches along her bare arms, one strap of her shirt was torn completely off and an eye was swollen almost shut. Leading her to the downstairs bathroom, Spike instructed Buffy to sit on the toilet while he rooted around in the closet for the first aid kit.

“She looks about the same, Slayer. Last thing I remember was being tossed head first into a tombstone; which is where this throbbing goiter came from I guess.” Buffy reached up and touched the gaping head wound with a wince of pain. “When I came to, Willow was gone.”  
“Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can fill me in on exactly what this whole mess was about, all right, kitten?” Spike asked, kneeling down between her thighs and dabbing lightly at the gash with a wet washcloth in attempts to clean off some of the blood. He brushed a kiss across her lips before continuing tending to her wounds. When he was finally done, Spike scooped Buffy into his arms and carried her to his bedroom, where he placed her on the edge.

“All right, out with it…the whole story.”

“Willow is just pissed off because she thinks that I left her for you, ok?” Buffy blurted out, avoiding his intense gaze. Nervously, she fidgeted with the tattered strap of her blouse while waiting for a response from Spike.

“And why does she think that, pet?” He asked before turning around and grabbing a black T-shirt from his dresser and handing it to Buffy. “I figured you might want to change out of that shirt since it seems to be a lost cause.”

“Thanks.” Buffy untied the remaining straps and slipped it off, baring her breasts to Spike; which allowed him to see the vicious bite that Willow had left when she tore the tiny top partially from Buffy’s body. “It doesn’t hurt…much.” She explained before pulling the shirt over her head and inhaling the familiar scent of Spike that enveloped her. Patting the bed beside her, Buffy motioned for Spike to sit next to her; continuing their conversation when he was settled. “You see, Willow is or was more than a sire to me. Um, we were lovers for what…like a hundred and twenty some odd years? I didn’t want to tell you that because you might think its squiky or something for girls to be involved like that.”

“Actually, kitten…most red blooded males would find it hot, I guess. Especially when it involves hot chicks.” Spike kidded and dodged a half hearted punch from Buffy. “Well, I can certainly see why she’s brassed off at the two of us. Guess they could smell me all over you from the get go, which we should have been prepared for. Not that I regret anything that we’ve done, kitten.” Leaning over, Spike kissed her lightly on the lips and pulled her into his arms; mindful of both of their injuries.

“Mmm…” Buffy moaned in pleasure as their embrace deepened; wriggling into his lap, she wrapped her legs around his sides and slowly pushed Spike down onto the bed. His hands caressed her back and slid down to rest on her ass, pulling her down onto his erection. Moisture flooded Buffy’s black lace panties as she ground her core against his groin. Pushing back from his lips, Buffy’s hands furiously tore at his already partially shredded shirt. Figuring the offending garment was already doomed for the waste basket; Buffy ripped the light blue material into pieces and tossed it to the floor. “Much better.” She purred, nipping at his chest with her blunt teeth. “Mmm, I love the way you smell…all man like and grr.”

“Don’ rightly know what ‘grr’ means, but if it gets this reaction then I will bloody well aim to stay that way; at least around you.” Spike was panting with desire, his cock throbbing painfully in his black denim jeans. It never ceased to amaze him how horny he became after a night of patrol, especially when he didn’t get a decent kill. Catching Buffy off guard while she was slowly torturing him by licking and nipping at his chest and stomach, Spike flipped them over and straddled her. “You are wearing far too many clothes.” 

Quickly stripping her petite frame free of clothing, Spike shed his boots and jeans and crawled back up Buffy’s body; resembling a panther stalking its prey. Her body quivered with want, aching with desire as she watched him settle between her shaking thighs. Reaching a hand between their bodies, Buffy wrapped her hand around his cock that was jutting out proudly and stroked it until he was writhing against her hand.

“God, Buffy…need inside…want you so much.” Spike whimpered in her ear; suckling the delicate flesh into his hot mouth. His hands fisted in her hair as he thrust forward into her tightly wrapped hand. Pulling away from her ear, Spike devoured her lips hungrily; their tongues dueling for control until they were both gasping for air. 

Spreading her legs wide, Buffy guided his marbled shaft to her heated center until it was poised at her dripping delicate lips. “Need you, too.” She murmured against his cheek before thrusting her hips upwards until his cock slipping into her pussy; they both cried out in ecstasy as Spike slowly rocked his hips and ground against the sensitive nub of her clit. Lightly biting along his neck, Buffy made her way to his ear where she nibbled the lobe before whispering, “I’m only alive when you’re inside me.”

Fueled with desire, Spike pounded into her furiously; their heated cries of passion filling the room. Feeling Buffy’s walls flutter around his cock, Spike momentarily slowed down and looked into Buffy’s luminous eyes before leaning his head to the side to expose his neck. Sensing her apprehension at his offering, Spike thrust back into her quivering core and hoarsely whispered, “I want you to.” 

Letting her demon slide forth, Buffy shyly turned her head so that Spike wouldn’t see; ashamed of what she was. Tears pricked her eyes when he reached out to softly trace the delicate ridges along her brow. “You’re beautiful, luv.”

Turning her head slightly, Buffy kissed the inside of his palm before nibbling at the soft skin of his neck. Biting and teasing the tender area ever so faintly while his cock slid in and out of her pussy, becoming more forceful as their orgasms approached. Sliding her fangs slowly into his neck, Buffy shook with release as his rich blood poured into her mouth; stifling her screams until she pulled away and came for a second time when Spike’s orgasm ripped through his body. 

A short while later, Buffy pulled a blanket over their naked bodies and curled against Spike, who had already slipped into a deep slumber and was snoring lightly with one arm tossed above his disheveled blonde locks. Studying his face intently, Buffy leaned over and kisses his slightly parted lips and whispering, “I think I’m falling in love with you.” Laying her head on his chest, Buffy closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

TBC...

 

**One line from Angel Season 3 “Waiting in the Wings”. It was done by the Master, Joss Whedon and his entourage of talented writers and not by little ole me. I just thought it captured the moment beautifully. Please don’t sue.**


	21. Chapter 21

Stretching languidly like a content feline, Spike awoke slowly; eyelids fluttering lightly as he tried to adjust to the light that was just beginning to flow into the room from outside. Realizing that the incoming sunlight would not make for a pleasant morning for the slumbering vampire curled next to his side, Spike eased out of the bed to close the heavy midnight blue curtains.

“Mmm…whatcha doin’?” Buffy muttered, eyes heavy lidded with sleep. Smiling slightly, she openly ogled the slender yet muscular build of the naked Slayer at the foot of the bed. “Not that I mind that you’re all with the nakedness for me to enjoy.”

“Sunlight was creeping in, pet.” Spike explained, walking back to the bed with a smirk on his face. “Didn’t want you leaving so soon.” Reaching out a hand to Buffy, he continued, “How ‘bout a shower, luv?”

“You, all naked and wet? I don’t know…you might have to twist my arm, Slayer.” Sliding her hand inside Spike’s, Buffy allowed him to pull her up from the bed and into his arms. Tilting her head back, she captured Spike’s awaiting lips and devoured them hungrily; pressing her nude body against his and moaning deeply when his hot skin came in contact with hers. Breaking apart momentarily, Buffy nibbled along his earlobe and whispered, “Maybe the shower could wait a bit?”

“Why wait, pet.” He growled as he picked her legs up and wrapped them around his narrow hips. With his hands firmly placed underneath her ass, Spike pulled Buffy tightly against him; his hardened cock nestled between her thighs and headed in the direction of the bathroom; peeking in first to make sure that the curtains were closed. 

Thankful that she was so light, Spike was able to turn on the shower without having to put Buffy down. As they waited for the water to heat, Spike placed Buffy’s back against the wall for leverage and began nibbling along her collarbone; experimentally biting down harder each time as her moans and pants became louder.

When the steam began filling the small bathroom, Spike pulled them away from the wall and carefully stepped into the shower and instantly pushed her against the cool tile and slid his cock inside her moist depth. Hips rocked together violently as Spike ploughed into Buffy, their cries of passion echoing off the walls. 

His teeth were on her neck again, she couldn’t think, her mind was lost with desire as his blunt canines marked her flesh. “Mmm…Spike…” Buffy moaned, tightening her legs around his waist and pulling his cock deeper inside her pussy. “Fuck, love the way you feel inside me.”

Spike’s only reply was an animalistic grunt as he pumped into her wildly, grabbing at her slender hips hard enough to leave deep bruises; his fingernails leaving tiny half moon shapes in their wake. The sharp, but pleasurable pain of her fangs piercing his jugular sent him over the edge; his release was sudden, surprising, and thunderous as he emptied his seed into her womb.

Leaning into Buffy’s tiny form, her legs tied around his waist, his softening cock imbedded inside her sex, Spike rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath; ignoring the intense pain on his back from the hot water pounding against the deep score marks that her nails had caused.

They remained like that until the water began to cool, silently holding on to one another. Finally, Buffy unwrapped her legs from around Spike and slowly slid down his body until her feet touched the shower floor. Grabbing the soap, she worked up a thick lather before gently massaging it against Spike’s skin; gently washing the marks that both she and Willow had caused as she worked down the rest of his body. When she was finished, Spike grabbed a washcloth and returned the favor; his caresses sending chills down her spine and causing her to giggle when he dipped the soft cloth into her belly button, sliding down between her legs to cleanse the delicate curls located there.

When the water no longer offered the comfort of heat, Buffy almost had to result to force to remove Spike from the shower. His skin was riddled with goose bumps and his teeth were beginning to chatter, yet he wanted to stay locked away in the bathroom where no one could interrupt them and Buffy was naked. “Out, mister!” Buffy ordered, thrusting a fluffy sage green towel in his direction. Finally, the sulking platinum blonde exited the shower and wrapped the bath towel around his waist; not bothering to dry off completely. Instead, he found drying Buffy’s body to be a more pleasing. 

Once dry, they went back into the bedroom for clean clothes, crimson pajama bottoms for Spike and the matching shirt for Buffy; which swallowed her whole, stopping just above her knees and the long sleeves rolled up almost to her elbows. Spike personally thought that he had never seen anything or anyone that was cuter than she was now. Grabbing her by the hand, Spike led her downstairs to the kitchen; making sure to close any curtains along the way. Settling her on the barstool at the light colored wooden island in the center of the kitchen, Spike said, “Well, I’ve always wanted to cook for a girl in the morning, but guess you don’ really eat, yeah?” 

“Hey! Just cuz I don’t really need it doesn’t mean I don’t want it.” Buffy exclaimed, laughing at Spike’s crestfallen look. “So, whattcha making?”

“You eat real food?” Spike asked, cocking his eyebrow quizzically. “I’ve only ‘eard of vamps dining on humans, not human cuisine.”

“Yeah, like those stupid Watchers want their Slayers to think of us as anything but big meanies who run around all ‘GRR’ and leaving dead bodies piled up along the alleyways. Don’t think that’d be too good for business, do you? We have feelings and hobbies and stuff that you don’t know about.”

“Huh. Ok, then. Bit strange is all to me, kitten.” Noticing Buffy’s change in demeanor, Spike wrapped his arms around her from the back and kissed her cheek. “We come from diff’rent worlds, takes a bit of adjustment, is all. For both of us. Now, how do you feel about pancakes?”

“Ooh, love pancakes. Can there be chocolate chips?” 

“Anything you want, luv.” Spike replied, crossing the kitchen and gathering items from the cabinets for breakfast. He came to a halt and cringed at her excited, “Can there be a little blood drizzled on top cuz they’re uber yummy.”

Buffy’s sides hurt from laughing so hard. Spike’s expression from hearing her request for bloody pancakes was hysterical. “I’m kidding, Spike!” She squeaked out between giggles, “Syrup’s good.”

 

About a half hour later, both Slayer and Vampire were sufficiently full of chocolate chip pancakes, bacon and on Buffy’s request, several glasses of chocolate milk. Standing near the sink, Buffy had begun washing the dishes; figuring it was the least she could do for Spike being so nice to her lately. In all honesty, her heart ached as she wiped away the remains of pancake, knowing that this type of domesticity was something she could never truly have. Lost in thought, she jumped with surprise when Spike’s breath tickled her neck; his muscular arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close to his chest. 

“’ve missed you.” He murmured against her ear as he reached below the hemline of her shirt; knowing full well that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

“Missed me? Hello, been with you all day, Spike. How can you miss me?” Buffy wobbled in his arms when his finger brushed against her clit; weakening her knees. Letting the last plate slide back into the warm, soapy water, Buffy turned around in his grasp and stared up into his eyes.

“Missed touching you is all; feeling your soft skin, your lips…” Spike murmured, placing feather light kisses all over her face. His tongue curled over his teeth in a seductive smirk as her eyes fluttered, her mouth open and panting for unneeded air, her hips undulating against the palm of his hand as his finger pumped in and out of her moist center. 

Picking her up, Spike turned them around and placed her on top of the island; opening the night shirt and leaning her back until she was bare before him. Dipping down, Spike circled her belly button with his tongue and traced a line upwards towards her breasts. His right hand cupped one perfect globe while his mouth suckled on the other, biting lightly at her rosy nipple. 

Their attention focused solely on one another, neither Spike nor Buffy noticed that the backdoor in the kitchen had been opened or that there were three guests standing in the threshold; mouths agape with shock.

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

The shuffle of shoes against the floor caught Buffy’s attention, quickly making her aware of three rapid heartbeats behind her. Tilting her head backwards ever so slightly, Buffy spotted Spike’s friends wide eyed and slack jawed by the backdoor. Offering up the tiniest of smiles, Buffy tapped on Spike’s shoulder and murmured, “Um…Spike? We’ve got company.”

“Bloody fucking hell!” Spike cried in disgust as he wrapped his arms around Buffy and helped her off the kitchen island; pulling her against his body to shield her from his friends stares. “Ever ‘eard of knockin’ on a bloke’s door instead of jus’ barging in?”

“Sorry, man. We’ve never had to knock, didn’t think this time would be any different.” Angel apologized, his hand still firmly placed over Fred’s eyes; shielding her from what he knew was a heartbreaking discovery for the petite Texan. While Spike was obviously oblivious to her affections, Angel and Gunn had known about the crush from the beginning. Growing impatient, Fred’s fingernails were digging deeply into his forearm as she struggled to be free from his grasp. “Angel let go!” She demanded, using all of her strength to remove his massive hand from her eyes; finally free, the rail thin brunette could only stare disbelievingly at the couple before her. 

“Um, we’ll just go man.” Gunn interjected, beginning to usher Angel and a shocked Fred out the door. “Call us later, ok?”

“No, wait. Jus’ go into the living room, yeah? Need to go over some things with you lot anyway. Buffy an’ I will be along in a moment.” 

“Buffy?” Fred asked quietly, her voice quivering slightly and blinking furiously to hold back the tears that were beginning to prick in her eyes. While the blonde in Spike’s arms had seemed familiar, she had been unable to put a name to the face so to speak and figured her to be someone he had picked up the night before. 

“Hold up! Buffy? As in that girl that kicked your scrawny white ass a couple of years ago? Man, that’s fucked up!” Gunn’s face clouded with a mixture of confusion and rage as he stepped closer to the blonde couple; Spike tucked Buffy behind him in a protective manner, instinct preparing him for a fight. 

“Calm down, mate.” Spike urged Gunn, his heart clenching when he saw a single tear slip down Fred’s face as Angel wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I’ll explain everything, yeah? Jus’ go into the living room and we’ll talk.” He watched silently as his friends shuffled into the other room, Gunn muttering under his breath the entire way. Turning around to Buffy, who hadn’t said a word during the whole ordeal, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close; needing to feel her touch. “Not exactly the way I ‘ad planned on them finding out about us, kitten, but I guess it’ll ‘ave to do. You ready for this?”

“Spike, maybe I should just make myself scarce for a while. Ya know…give you guys some alone time away the cause of the whole mess?” Nervous, Buffy fidgeted with the hem of her borrowed shirt and intentionally avoided Spike’s eyes.

“What?! No, Buffy…I wan’ you with me, pet. They’re bloody well going to ‘ave to accept you sooner or later, and I’d prefer that it wasn’t later.” Spike pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose, “Love that nose, kitten.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Slayer.” Buffy replied saucily before titling her head to accept a kiss from Spike that quickly went from innocent to explicit in a matter of moments. Placing her hands on his chest and lightly pushing him away, she said, “As much as I would rather being doing that with you instead of what we have to do, your friends are waiting for us. So, ready to face the wolves?”

“Don’t figure they’d appreciate being called wolves, luv; but yeah, ‘bout as ready as I’ll ever be. But, we will most certainly be finishing this later.” Taking one of Buffy’s small hands in his, Spike lead the way to the living room to face what he figured would be one hell of a tough crowd. Warily, he skirted around the room and briefly scanned his male friends for any obvious signs of stakes before settling next to Buffy on the maroon couch. “Thanks for staying, guys…er, and girl.”

“Yeah, well, it sounded important; but then again, so did whatever you had going on last night, right? Just didn’t know that “big bad” business was Buffy.” Angel replied sarcastically, giving his best friend a serious case of the stinky eye. 

“Oi! You can’t possibly think I blew you guys off so I could go shag!” Spike cried incredulously, his head swinging back and forth across his friends looking for a sign that they were joking. Not seeing any shaky smiles or mischievous twinkles in their eyes, Spike threw his hands up and said, “Oh well that’s just bloody fantastic, innit? Like I’ve ever given you lot a reason to doubt me?”

“Spike, you have to admit that finding you all warm and cozy with her makes it a difficult for us to believe you weren’t doing just that, dontcha think? We’re supposed to be your friends, the least you could’ve done was tell us the truth.” Fred interjected quietly from the corner of the room where she sat slumped in his father’s favorite recliner. 

“It’s the truth, I promise!” Spike swore vehemently. “We ran into each other at the club last night and that’s when I found out that her two sires had it in big time for me. They’re here, in Sunnydale…or, at least one of them is, anyway. 

When I left you guys, I ran into Tara downtown and insisted on walking her home to make sure she was safe and all. Long story short, I ran into her sires, Willow and Xander, in the graveyard…the one by the bookstore? We fought, the red headed chick attacked Tara…who is in the hospital, by the way…and I thought that I was a goner, too. Xander had me by the short hairs, you see…with the whole ‘Move and we kill your little friend’ routine. But she saved me…and Tara. Buffy dusted her grandsire for us without a second thought about what she was doing. After that…we’ll I guess you already know the rest of the story, yeah?”

“Yeah, no need to go into the disturbing details of your boinking session with the undead, Spike.” Fred ground passed tightly clenched teeth; her face was flushed red with not only anger, but disappointment as she got out of the chair and stared directly at Buffy. “You just couldn’t leave him alone, could you? He almost died last time! And now you bring a whole new problem to town?! You should have just stayed away from him!” Her body was shaking now, tears building in her doe like brown eyes. “Well, you know what, Spike? I’m not going to stand around and watch her hurt you again.” Unable to keep the sadness at bay any longer, Fred rushed from the room; her face streaking with hot tears.

“I’ll go after her. She doesn’t need to be out there wandering around alone; especially since it’s going to get dark soon.” Gunn headed for the front door, which remained wide open after Fred’s departure. “For what it’s worth, bro…I’m glad you guys are all right, but I hope this thing…” He said, gesturing to the blonde couple on the couch, “is worth it, cause I ain’t too sure Fred’s gonna be able to forgive you anytime soon.” 

Lost in thought, Spike was pulled from his daze by the sound of the front door slamming shut. Turning back to his remaining friend, who was openly staring at Buffy with an unreadable expression on his face, Spike ran his hands through his hair and inquired nervously, “So, mate…what’s your opinion? Gonna tear me a new one like the rest of them?”

“Can you stop her?” Angel asked, staring at Buffy. “What’s her name? Willow? Can you stop her before she does something else?”

“Yes.” Buffy replied honestly; staring eye to eye with Angel, she continued, “I don’t care what happens to me, I won’t let her hurt Spike or anyone he cares about.”

“Then I don’t guess I have a problem with you two being together. Just…you know…no biting in front of me, ok?” Angel grimaced at the thought of watching the blonde vampire having a meal with his best friend’s neck. He wasn’t totally oblivious; he had spotted the tiny puncture wounds on Spike’s neck when in the kitchen. While almost completely healed, thanks to Slayer healing, the bright fluorescent lighting made them stand out. “Look, I’m gonna go check on Fred. She’s taking this relationship a lot harder than when you dated Drusilla.”

“And why, exactly is she that upset, Angel?” Spike asked with a blank look on his face, but scowled when Buffy started snickering beside him. “What?”

“She’s crushing on you big time, dork!” Buffy managed to get out between giggles. “You mean you actually didn’t know? Are you totally blind?” 

“Fred? A crush on me?” Spike looked questioningly at Angel who had joined in the laugh fest with Buffy. “Since when?”  
“Man you really are clueless. Are you sure that blonde hair is fake?” Angel quickly exited the living room and moved to the safety of the foyer when confronted by a perturbed blonde vampire who was currently staring him down with a cocked eyebrow. “Look, I’ll call you later; Spike, and let you know how Fred is doing. Give her some time to cool down before you go see her.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, Angel exited the house and headed towards Fred’s apartment.

Inside the house, Spike and Buffy sat in silence; unsure of what to say to one another. Finally, Buffy broke the ice, “I’m gonna go, ok? I’m in major need of actual clothes at this point.” Scooting off the couch, Buffy tried walking around him to go to the bedroom, but was snatched back when Spike grabbed one of her legs.

“Not leaving, kitten.” He muttered against her belly as he held her tightly around the waist. “Jus’ got you…not ready for you to go. We’ll both go, but you’re coming back here. In fact,” Spike pulled away from her stomach, glaring up at Buffy with a fierce look in his eyes, “you’re moving in ‘ere with me, yeah? It’s too bloody dangerous for you to be in that place all alone.”

“You can’t be serious?! What about your dad? And, hello…vampire, here…I can take care of myself, Spike.” Buffy reached out and brushed a wayward tendril off his forehead and had a fleeting thought that he was adorable without his hair slicked down with gel. 

“My Da’s gone for another couple of weeks visiting friends in London, kitten. And, I am well aware that you are a vampire; jus’ being near you sends my Slayer senses into hyper drive. I want you ‘ere with me, yeah? Always.”

“Well, how can a girl say No to that? Guess I’m moving in, Slayer.”


	23. Chapter 23

“She’s not here.” Buffy told Spike as they entered the mansion. Flipping on a nearby light, she turned to him and said, “Was here at some point and time, but not now.”

“Can’t say that I’m happy she’s not here, pet; ‘least if she was...we could go ahead and get this lil’ vendetta of hers over with once and for all, yeah?” Closing the door behind him, Spike pulled her into his arms and placed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’d rather be focusing this time on us, instead of wondering what your wack job sire is planning on doin’.”

“Mmm....have to agree with you on that, Mister. ‘Course, we are in a big ol’ empty house, whatever will we do?” She replied coyly, tilting her head upwards and licking her lips suggestively. “Got any ideas, Slayer?” Unwrapping herself from his arms, Buffy slowly undid each button; nipping and kissing along his chest as skin was exposed. Once unbuttoned, she pushed the charcoal dress shirt off his shoulders, letting it pool on the ground behind them, and leaned over to lick one nipple; catching the tiny bud in between her teeth before continuing on to the other. 

“Naughty minx. ‘S not nice to tease a bloke, ya know?” Spike growled. Fisting his hands in Buffy’s hair, he pulled her up and kissed her hungrily; moaning his desire into her mouth. Releasing his hold, he slid his hands down her back and grasped them around her ass, pulling her body tightly against his and grinding his erection into her core. Lowering his hold, Spike lifted Buffy’s thighs until she wrapped them around his waist; locking her ankles and using the leverage to massage her throbbing center against his groin. 

Clumsily, Spike maneuvered his way down the darkened hallway in the direction of the bedroom once declared to be Buffy’s; not bothering to turn on any lights once they entered. After laying her down onto the bed, Spike crawled up her body; pushing the shirt she borrowed from him upwards along the way, exposing her pale skin to his gaze. Licking slowly, he made his way from the indentation of her belly button all the way to the soft skin in the valley between her breasts. Tugging the shirt over her head, Spike tossed the offending garment to the floor all the while keeping his attention focused solely on the twin peaks of her breasts; nipples turgid with desire. 

The moist heat of Spike’s mouth on her cool skin was enough to drive her wild with desire; her body writhed beneath his touch as his tongue slowly outlining each and every contoured of her torso. The soft skin of his lips wrapped around one breast and Buffy groaned loudly; reaching down, she pawed furiously at what was left of his clothing; tearing at the buttons on his jeans and trying to shove them down his legs. 

“Kitten’s a bit impatient, yeah?” Spike murmured, peeking up at Buffy with a devilish glint in his stormy blue eyes. Pushing away from Buffy, Spike grabbed her hands and raised them above her head; remembering what was stowed away in the end table from their last encounter, he held her arms down with one hand and retrieved the shiny handcuffs. “Maybe these will teach you some restraint.” Snapping the cuffs around her wrists, Spike smiled at his handiwork before moving back down her body; where he slid off her boots and leather pants, leaving her clad in only a scant piece of black lace. “You remember the rules, luv? No talking unless I say so, right?”   
Buffy nodded obediently and lifted off the bed so that Spike could remove the last scrap of clothing from her body. Bare to his gaze, moisture flooded from her core when he curled his tongue over his teeth in a wickedly seductive way that always seemed to get her wet. Even though they had already had sex several times that morning, her body was already aching for his touch, to feel his cock buried within her depth, his teeth in her neck as they thrust together wildly. Writhing madly, Buffy raised her hips in a silent plea for Spike to stop teasing and give her what she wanted. 

“Tsk…tsk…tsk...what did I say ‘bout being impatient, luv? Seems you haven’t learned your lesson yet. For shame.” Spike taunted, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. He lifted one leg, bringing her tiny foot to his mouth and slid one blood red painted toe into his mouth; sucking lightly and swirling his tongue sensuously around the tip before relinquishing it to further continue his exploration of her delicate foot. 

By the time he made his way to her knee, nipping at the soft are at the back, Buffy was no longer wriggling in his hands, bit was rigid with need. He chuckled lightly at her state and continued upwards to his goal; licking along her moistened slit at a treacherously slow speed, bringing a growl of frustration to her lips, before plunging his tongue into her pussy. Pulling his mouth away from her center, Spike replaced his tongue with two fingers, easing them into her deeply and slowly pulling them back out; taunting her with slowness, building her desire. Lowering his mouth again, he flicked his tongue against her swollen bud and drawing it into his mouth until a tiny cry of pleasure escaped from her mouth. “Can’t seem to keep quite can you, kitten? Maybe you don’t really want this, yeah?”

Shaking her head vigorously from side to side, Buffy mouthed an apology and thrust herself down onto his digits; begging for him to continue. She was dizzy with longing; eyes closed and mouth agape as Spike’s ministrations drove her right over the brink of sanity. When her orgasm shattered through her, causing her body to shake with convulsions and making her nearly rip Spike’s head right off his shoulders when she clamped her thighs together, Buffy was forced to bite down on her lower lip to stifle the scream that threatened to spill. Looking down at Spike with a lazy grin plastered on her face, Buffy felt a trail of blood drizzle from her lips and slither down her chin and was shocked when Spike licked it from her skin; a fresh wave of moisture spilled from her core. 

In one quick motion, Spike buried his cock inside Buffy; never pausing to savor the feel of her walls around him, plunging into her depths with need and want. His lips crashed against hers, teeth gnashing together to spill more blood into their mouths to mix with her essence still present on his lips; the tastes mingling together to make one tantalizing combination. “Fuck, pet…always feel so good, so tight…” Spike panted, his thrusts coming faster and faster now. Her moans were driving him crazy and he had a fleeting thought of amazement that she was trying not to speak; and the thought added fuel to his desire, his vampire succumbing to his demands in the bedroom was highly arousing. 

Buffy’s legs tightened around his waist and she tossed her head back when another orgasm ripped through her body; her inner walls choking his cock with their strength. With an animalistic cry, Spike thrust into he one last time, spurting his seed into her useless womb. Shaking, Spike was silent for a few moments as he regained his composure enough to form a coherent sentence. “Such a good lil’ vamp, aren’t you? Doin’ what the Big Bad Slayer tell you to do.” He mussed, nipping lightly at her neck and chuckling so that Buffy was aware that he was kidding around. As much as he loved provoking the blonde temptress, having an angry vampire so close to his neck was something Spike didn’t like dealing with. 

Growling, Buffy snapped at his exposed neck and erupted into a fit of giggles at his shocked expression. “Watch it, Slayer, or next time I might actually bite your pasty white neck. Course, you seemed to like that last time.” She chided, licking along his jugular and biting down softly. When she felt his cock, still buried inside her, start to harden with desire, Buffy laughed and exclaimed, “Gotta love that Slayer stamina!”

Nearly two hours later, they lay intertwined and tangled in the sheets; completely listless. Finally, Buffy grudgingly removed herself from his embrace and said, “Guess we need to get my stuff together and head back to your place. You need to patrol, right?”

“Yeah, not that I’m gonna have much energy after what we just did.” Spike remarked snarkily. “You can bend at some amazing angles, kitten. Gotta admit, big turn-on in my book.” Reaching out, Spike grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the bed with him. “The nasties could hold off a bit longer, yeah?” 

“Behave!” She gasped as his fingers slipped between her thighs and rubbed against her swollen clit. Swatting him away, she exclaimed, “Now, Mister! We really need to get out of here just in case Willow returns. Heck, after the sex-capades we just performed in, we’d both get our butts handed to us in this state! Now, go!”

 

After stuffing her belongings into suitcases, they loaded them into Spike’s car and headed back towards his house; making one quick stop at the butcher’s for blood. Deciding her clothes could wait; Buffy grabbed her “brown bag dinner” and walked hand in hand with Spike to the front door. When they got to the porch, Spike pressed her back against the front door and kissed her hungrily as he fumbled with the door lock. With a startled gasp, Buffy fell backwards into the foyer when the door flew open; juggling her meal in both hands and giggling like a schoolgirl at Spike; who was clumsily trying to catch her with a shocked expression on his face. Once they had regained their footing, Spike pulled her against his chest and kissed her forehead; whispering, “Sorry, pet.” 

“Good Evening, Spike. Glad to see all’s well with you…been calling practically all afternoon.” Someone commented dryly from the living room.

Glancing towards the voice, Spike said, “’Ello, Wesley.” 

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

“Thought you were at some stuffed shirt tweed convention, Wes, why’d ya come back so soon, mate?” Spike inquired, tossing his car keys onto the table in the foyer and turning to take the brown grocery bag from Buffy’s hands. “Here, pet…lemme take that for you.”

“No, um…that’s ok. I’m gonna go put it in the fridge.” Heading in the direction of the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, “Be right back! Don’t start without me!” Hurrying to the kitchen, she quickly set about placing the six containers of pig’s blood into the refrigerator; all the while keeping one ear tuned into the conversation in the living room.

“It was a Watcher’s Retreat, Spike, and to be invited is a compliment. Therefore, having to leave because I was informed that you were in some type of trouble was quite a disappointment.” Wesley replied dryly. “In fact, it’s an even larger disappointment since you seem to not be in any trouble at all. On the other hand, who was that young lady and where might Drusilla be tonight?” 

“Drusilla and I broke up, happened a couple a days ago. As for that younglady? Well, I imagine she’s the reason that the Council sent word for you to return home.” Shuffling nervously, Spike paused for a moment in order to give Buffy sufficient time to return to them; which didn’t take too long since she was apparently already on her way back. Once she was standing next to him, Spike wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her next to him in a protective manner. “Wes, this is Buffy. I…uh…don’t know if you remember…”

The stunned blonde couple barely had time to react to the Watcher’s sudden display of bravery, instantly retrieving a wooden cross from deep within the lapels of his brown tweed sport coat and lunging wildly at his perceived threat. “Stay back, Creature of the Night!” Wesley’s whole body shook with nervousness; never in all his years as a Watcher, which in all honesty weren’t very many, had he encountered a vampire with a history as violent and gruesome as this one’s. Of course, if he were really honest with himself, he had never had to be in the position to dust one, either. The killing of the creatures was solely meant for the Slayer, while his job was to educate and oversee from a distance. 

What shocked him the most, not to mention damaged his manhood, was that the vampire didn’t seem to be worried that he was about to kill her. No, in fact, the tiny blonde stood beside his Slayer with confidence and they both seemed to be quite amused with his display. Dropping his weapon to his side, Wesley stared back and forth between the couple with a confused expression before inquiring, “Has everyone here just gone round the bend? Vampire. Right there, Spike. May I ask why you aren’t doing your sacred duty and staking her?”

“Right, about that…there might be some things that you missed over the past few days, Wes. Maybe you should sit down, first.” Spike pointed at the wing backed chair that Fred had occupied earlier in the day. Once Wesley had settled himself into the chair, glaring at them inquisitively, Spike followed Buffy over to the couch and sat down next to her; praying that this conversation went a whole hell of a lot better than the one with his friends. 

“Well, let’s have it then.” Wesley urged his Slayer when it was apparent that the young man was obviously at a loss of words; which both confused and downright frightened him since Spike was known for not being able to keep his mouth shut. “Spike?”

“Buffy and I are…well, together, for a lack of a better term. Hadn’t quite had time to process the whole thing, honestly.” He paused his speech long enough to turn to Buffy and take her hand in his. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, mate, but I think she’s the one ‘m suppose to be with.” Seconds ticked by, the room was filled with a enough tension that a plastic knife could slice right through it. “Well, come one then…say something, Wes. I know you bloody well want to.”

“I honestly don’t know what to say, William. This is…well, it’s unheard of…a Slayer and a vampire…dating!” In a huff, Wesley pushed himself off the couch and started pacing the narrow living room. A few agonizing minutes passed before he spoke again, “It’s just all too much to deal with at the moment. First, the news about an unexpected uprising at the Hellmouth and now, finding out that you have decided to carry on with the enemy; well, it’s just too much.”

“Well…’m sorry you feel that way, but I….um, I care for her, Wes. Not to mention, if it weren’t for her, Tara and I wouldn’t be here anymore. She bloody well saved the both of us! Buffy dusted one of her sires just to save two lowly humans from being tortured to death in a graveyard because I wasn’t man enough to do it!” Spike felt his blood begin to boil, hated having to go through this conversation again, especially after the disastrous consequences from earlier. Guilt plagued his conscience as an image of Fred, crying and red with anger filled his mind. 

Buffy was at a loss for words; hated knowing that Spike was hurting and not knowing what to do about it. Tightening her hand around his, she said, “Spike, don’t blame yourself for what happened with Tara. Xander is…was a sadistic bastard and they tricked you, used your love for Tara as a weapon in order to control your actions. I honestly believe that even if I hadn’t come along, you would have figured out a way to save her.”

“Oh dear! Is Tara all right?” Wesley interjected, worry marring his handsome features. “She’s not…I mean, she’s alive, right?” 

“Course she’s all right, Wes. No thanks to me. Acted like a sodding nancy boy, I did. Just stood there and let that crazy bitch hurt one of my best mates.” 

“And, Buffy saved you both. Actually dusted her grandsire for two humans? I honestly don’t believe it!” Wesley cried incredulously, continuing with his nervous pacing. “Might I ask why, Buffy?”

“Huh?” Buffy asked, pulling her attention away from Spike’s pain and focusing on the Watcher who was staring a hole through her head. “I…I had to, I guess. Didn’t really think twice about it, just ‘Poof’…no more Xander.”

“It’s unheard of! It has to be!” Wesley repeated, sitting back down in the chair with a dazed look on his face. After a brief moment, he muttered, “I wonder if their presence in town is the reason for the concern.”

“Wha’s that, Wes?” Spike asked.

“Oh, right…back to the actual reason I came all the way home. The Council sent word that their Seer’s had an extremely ominous prediction about the Hellmouth. If their vision is correct, it is safe to say that we are on the verge of another apocalypse.” Wesley’s wondrous expression from before faded and he gazed at the two figures on the couch grimly, “Someone, or rather, something has been working very diligently in the attempts to resurrect an ancient demon that will bring about the end of humanity. Dimension walls will crumble and blend together, creating what could only be described as Hell, Spike.”

“Is that right?” Spike drawled, figuring that this attempt was no different from the last three apocalypses that had faced and defeated. “And what would the name of this demon be?”

“Anyanka.”


	25. Chapter 25

“Anyanka?” Buffy whispered; her mind and body suddenly filled with dread. Nibbling on her lower lip as she did when she was nervous, she looked at a curious Spike and said, “That is so not of the good.”

“You’ve heard of this demon before, Buffy?” Wesley inquired, suddenly very interested in what the vampiress had to say. “Do tell.”

“I…I’ve heard…um, things over the years. Don’t know how true they are, through. Um…let’s see, Anyanka is this demonish type that totally terrorized everyone like a gazillion years ago. And, when I mean everyone…I mean everyone, demons, vampires and humans.”

“Demonish? Ok, so she’s a demon, what’s the sodding big deal about that?” Spike shrugged his shoulders and reached in his pants pocket for his cigarettes. “ ‘s not like I haven’t dealt with ‘em before, yeah?”

“I don’t mean like the normal run of the mill demons you see everyday. She’s like pure demon, one of the first known to exist…or at least be recorded. She can change her face like a vampire, put on a human guise to fit in, but no one really knows why. And, she was a real…I mean real big nasty. Her bloodlust trumps her legendary beauty and that’s what caused the ‘Powers That like to Mess with Everyone’s Lives’ to step in and lock her away all nice and tidy. Don’t really know the whole story there, but they somehow put her into some other hell dimension after she slaughtered thousands of innocents…er, as innocent as demons can be, right?” Buffy chewed on the tip of her fingernail for a second, lost in thought. “But, I heard that once in there, no one could leave. So, how’s she busting loose?”

“Right, well then…that’s the problem we’re facing. Seems that someone has found the proverbial loophole that always pops up in situations such as these; sadly, there’s no word on who the culprit is.” Wesley’s expression was grim as he leaned forward in his seat. “The small amount of information coming from the Council as of now is that the ceremony to raise Anyanka will occur in Sunnydale on the new moon; which gives us shortly under two weeks to figure out the who, where and how to stop it part of the mission.” 

“Guess its research time then, Wes, time to rally together the gang.” Spike interjected, hoping off the couch and heading towards the desk across the room to use the phone. “Hopefully, Fred will be able to push aside her anger long enough to help divert the latest crisis; other than Wesley, tha’ bird’s the smartest one around and we need all the help we can get.”

“Erm, Spike…while research is the best angle we can pursue at the moment; tis’ a bit late in the evening to be calling people.” Wesley indicated towards the wall clock by the front door which showed that midnight had come and gone already by nearly two hours.

“Bloody hell I didn’t know it had gotten so late. Guess the best thing to do is call them in the morning, have them here about lunch time, yeah?” Spike ran his hands through his gelled locks in exasperation, knocking them free of their hold only slightly, but enough that tiny spikes of platinum stood on end. Sighing, he turned to Buffy, who was sitting silently on the couch and noticed her apprehensive expression, “Wha’s the matter, pet? Tha’ too early for you?”

“No, that’s fine.” She assured Spike, once again chewing at her lip. “It’s just…um, do you really want me there? Wouldn’t it go over better with Fred if I was…you know? Um…made myself scarce?”

“Probably, but I want you there, ok?” Spike assured her, quickly striding across the room and pulling her into his arms. “They’re gonna have to get use to you sooner or later, yeah? Plus, you’ve already proven to be useful, filled us in right nicely on this Anyanka bint. Coulda taken us hours to get that much info out of those dusty ol’ books of Wesley’s and my Da’s.” 

“Very well then, Spike I’ll let myself out and leave calling everyone to you. See the both of you tomorrow afternoon, good ngiht.” Wesley stated, gathering his few belongings and heading out the door.

“Hmm…whatever will we do now tha’ we are all alone?” Spike whispered huskily, dipping his head to nibble along Buffy’s neck.

Her legs were already shaking with desire from his nips to her exposed flesh, making her head swim with lust. Knowing what needed to be done, Buffy placed her hands on his chest and pushed Spike away ever so slightly, but still enough to fill his eyes with insecurity and wonder. “I need to know, Spike...if it’s Willow or not.”

“Yeah? And how d’ya plan on doin’ that, luv? Got your magic ball stowed away in your suitcase?” Spike remarked as he went back to kissing along her throat; causing her to push him away again. “What?! ‘s not like you can bloody well just go ask the crazy chit, now can you? Even if you could, she wouldn’t just tell you what her plans were, yeah? Pretty sure you’ve made it on her enemy list right along with my name.”

“I know, but if I can get out there and do some digging on my own before word spreads that I’m on your side now, then maybe I can get some information. Even if it is something small.” Buffy reached up and placed her hand on his cheek; rubbing her thumb across the sharp angle of his cheekbone in a tender caress. “Please, just let me try.”

“Fine.” He grumbled, grudgingly accepting the soft kiss she brushed across his lips in gratitude. “But, make it quick. Sun’s almost up and I don’t fancy havin’ a pile of dust as a girlfriend.”

“Well, since you just said that I’m at girlfriend status, then I won’t have to remind you that I’m a big girl now and can take care of myself.” She smirked, giggling like a schoolgirl when he pulled her in for a bear hug; lifting her several inches off the floor so that they were face to face. After kissing for several minutes, she pulled away again and wriggled in his arms, “Course I’m covered in eau d’ Slayer, so I have to take a sprint through the shower first. Would you mind getting my suitcase for me so I can change?”

“Not a bit, luv.” Obligingly, Spike set her back down on her own two feet and headed towards the front door only after giving her a swat across her backside. “Did I ever mention that that whole vampire smelling thing is strange?” 

 

Half an hour later, Buffy was strolling down the seemingly empty streets of Sunnydale; they were just dark and quiet enough to give the appearance of a peaceful town, but lurking in the shadows, she could feel the presence of evil. Speeding up, she walked at a brisk walk in the direction of Willie’s, a dive bar that was well known for its gossiping demon clientele. If she was lucky, her fallout with Willow and the now dusty Xander wouldn’t be widely known and she could find out some tasty tidbits of information.

Pushing her way through the dented door, Buffy was pleased when very few patrons paid any attention to her and that the one’s that did look seemed to want something a whole lot different than revenge. Sighing with relief, she sidled up to the dingy bar and ordered a shot of Tequila from the owner, Willy, a human who always reminded her of a scared rat. 

“Haven’t seen you in these parts in a while.” Willy said, deciding to offer the well known Master Vampire the bottle of gold liquor instead of just one measly shot; figuring it was best to make nice with the temperamental blonde. “Where ya been?”

“Eh…here and there, no place special,” She offered, knocking back a small glass of the liquor, barely grimacing as it burned in her throat. Pouring another dose, Buffy looked him in the eyes and said, “Figured I’d come back here for the upcoming fireworks. Plus, wouldn’t mind knocking the Slayer around some beforehand.” Mentally, she crossed her fingers and hoped the weasel-looking human hadn’t had the foresight, or intelligence, to put up magical enhancements so that vampire’s couldn’t use thrall on other patrons. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. You were the one that nearly did him in! I nearly forgot. Hey, you’re a legend in here, only one that’s gotten close to killing Spike.” Willy’s eyes glazed over as Buffy’s thrall took his mind over and she smiled wickedly as he spilled the gossip he had gotten earlier. “Fireworks, you say? Don’t know about any pretty light show, but there’s word that you’re group is up to some heavy mojo.”

“Who told you that and what are they planning, Willy?” Buffy asked eagerly, nearly crushing her glass with excitement and frustration. 

“Don’t know his name, just some new guy in town. Got something big planned to bring down the Slayer. Portals and magic, dunno what, guy didn’t know too much. Claims he heard it straight from the redhead’s mouth, said she sired him.” 

She sat there, silent, as the information sank in. Willow was siring? She hadn’t been one to do that, only a handful over the years. Why now? “Shit.” Buffy mumbled, tipping her glass back and swallowing the last bit of alcohol. Letting the haze drop, Buffy pushed several waded up bills towards the slightly dazed bar owner and said, “Thanks, Willy.”

“No problem.” He stammered as he gathered up the crumbled bills. By the time his mind had cleared completely, the front door was slamming shut as Buffy headed for her new home.


	26. Chapter 26

“Maybe it would be better if I played the role of Avoid-o Girl for the meeting and hide out up here,” Buffy announced, perched in the middle of the bed with an apprehensive look on her face. Spike was rummaging around in the closet for something to wear, running late since they had started the morning off with a rise and shine romp. When he turned around and gave her a questioning look, she elaborated. “I’m pretty sure that Fred won’t be overly pleased to see me and if she’s upset then…I’m thinking she might focus on me being there and not so much on the researchy stuff.”

“Already bloody well told you that she’s just going t’have to get over her bad mood, Buffy; might as well be sooner rather than later, yeah? Plus, I need you there just as much as Fred. After what you got out of Willie last night, you might just be our ace in the hole. Who knows Willow better than you?” Spike pulled yet another black T-shirt over his head before reaching out to pull her off the bed and into his arms. “Everythin’ll be all right, I promise. Fred is perfectly capable of putting aside her feelings and focusing on what’s important, kitten.”

“Fine,” Buffy relented, poking her bottom lip out as she pouted, “but when she stakes me in the heat of the moment…well, I guess I won’t be able to say I told you so in dust form, huh?”

“You are being downright ridiculous, luv. Fred’s the sweetest bird I know; wouldn’t hurt a fly. No need for the dramatics.” He lightly placed a kiss to the end of Buffy’s nose and smirked as fury slowly colored her eyes at being made fun of. “Settle down, pet…you know how cute I think you are when you get all riled up and we don’t have nearly enough time to take advantage of that before everyone arrives.”

“I’ll behave for now, but I fully intend on kicking your butt later.” Buffy murmured, her anger quickly dissolving, only to be replaced with a heavy dose of unadulterated lust. “And then some.” She added saucily as she rubbed his cock through the rough denim jeans and gazed up into the oceanic depths of his eyes with her own as they faded from green to gold. 

An animalistic growl rumbled deep in his chest, surprising him in its ferocity as he literally slammed Buffy backwards against the wall. “Don’t think I can’t wait for later, pet…just gonna have to make this quick.” Spike hoarsely whispered against Buffy’s neck as he tore at the opening to his jeans, freeing his cock and thrusting deeply into her awaiting pussy; thankful she hadn’t gotten around to putting on anything after their shower and was still clad only in a towel. 

Buffy moaned into his mouth with a gasp of surprise and wrapped her legs tightly around his narrow waist, using the leverage to pull him further inside. “Ungh…harder, Spike…harder.” She demanded in a breathless pant; digging frantically at his back with her razor like talons, desperately trying to fill the scant amount of space between them, needing him to somehow be closer. “Need you…more...” A fire began to burn deep in her womb, lapping at her center with an intensity that had Buffy matching Spike thrust for thrust so hard that the framed pictures on the wall beside them began to shake.   
“Fuck, pet…feel so perfect, such a tight lil’ quim,” Spike choked out between pants; digging his fingers into the swell of Buffy’s hips as he ploughed into her so roughly that he was thankful she wasn’t a normal woman who would have been bruised by the ferocity of his desire. 

Spasms of pleasure coursed through her body, Buffy trembled in his strong arms as the orgasm shattered inside. Screaming wildly, she felt her demon burst forth just before smashing against Spike’s lips for a mind searing kiss. Barely finished with the first release, a fang nicked Spike’s bottom lip sending a second that rippled through her core with a heat that she was sure would dust her on the spot as she bucked in his arms; sucking greedily on the coppery blood that flowed into her mouth. 

Fueled by the force of her passion, Spike’s thrusts slammed deeply into her awaiting core, shaking the walls so tremendously that a picture from his graduation clattered to the floor and shattered the glass. Paying no attention to anything happening around them, his eyesight blurred and dotted with stars when his orgasm tore through his body with earth shattering strength; his scream echoing loudly in the small room.

 

Interlocked in the most intimate of ways, Spike’s cock was nestled deep within Buffy as they held onto one another, foreheads touching and their bodies shivered with the aftershocks of passion. Unsure how long they stayed in that position, they broke apart when the shrill ring of the doorbell broke the silence. 

“And that concludes the entertainment portion of the afternoon,” Buffy muttered snarkily. Unfazed by her state of undress, she brushed a kiss across Spike’s bruised lips. “Sorry about the mid-romp snacking. Couldn’t help myself though, you’re pretty tasty.”

“Happy to oblige, kitten…anytime, quite the turn on actually,” Spike replied with a leer as he buttoned his black jeans and pulled on a matching shirt. “Guess you’ll be needing another shower then, yeah?” 

“Um…not so much,” She replied playfully. “Think I’m going to torture myself today and keep the scent of our sex for a while. Go on downstairs, I’ll be right behind you…just gotta throw on some clothes.”

“I don’t know, kitten. The guys might fancy you strutting around in all your glory.” Spike retorted, ducking out of the room just in time to dodge a pillow that Buffy jokingly tossed in his direction in mock annoyance. 

Downstairs, Spike opened the door to find all three of his friends waiting patiently; obviously they had learned their lesson about barging into his house on their last visit. “Afternoon, all! Come one in, still waiting for Wesley.” Ushering the guys into the living room, Spike cautiously approached Fred and asked, “Could we talk for a minute, ducks? Just the two of us?”

Nodding wordlessly, Fred shuffled past Spike and headed into the kitchen. Perching on the bar stool, she fidgeted nervously and avoided contact with Spike’s expressive eyes. “Well….”

“Are we going to be all right, sweets?” Spike burst out, reaching across the bar to take her hands in his. “I can’t bear the thought of you being angry with me, not being around and what not.”

Tears welled in Fred’s luminous chocolate brown eyes, chin trembling, she laid her head down on top of the juncture that was their hands and let the sadness pour from her body. “Oh, Spike…I…I…don’t want to lose you…either.” She choked out in between gasps for air. Whipping her head up to look directly at him, she forced out, “Would you leave…her…for me?” Her shoulders slumped as her answer flickered in his eyes, his silence was deafening. “Guess that’s a no, huh? So, where does that leave us?”

“Fred, sweetie, you know I love you, yeah? But this thing with Buffy, I don’t rightly know how to explain it. It’s like when we’re together I feel…like I’ve come home. If that makes any sense at all,” Spike muttered, wincing as she pulled her hands from his. Leaning back against the kitchen sink, he craved a cigarette and mentally cursed his father for banning them in the house. “You deserve better than me, luv. Might not think so now, but you do. Someone who can commit to you a hundred percent, someone you can get married to and have fat lil’ grandchildren with, someone…someone who has a future.”

“Spike, don’t say things like that!” Fred admonished, pushing off the stool to come around and stand in front of him. “You deserve a normal life, too. A real girlfriend, not some demon who has tried to kill you on more than one occasion.”

“That’s just it, innit? Yeah, Buffy tried to kill me, just like I tried to do the same to her. In the end, we never succeeded and I think that’s because we didn’t want to. Like maybe we knew that we were meant for something else, yeah?” 

“So, you love her? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” 

“I know I feel something for her that I’ve never felt for anyone else. Is it love? I can’t rightly say, but she’s…special to me.” Pausing, Spike locked gazes with his long time friend, eyes a steely blue with determination. “She’s not a just a demon to me. Can you handle that?”

“I guess I’ll have to, won’t I? You mean too much to me to let her come between us, plus, gotta stay close and make sure she doesn’t hurt you, right?” With a light smile, Fred fell against Spike when he offered his arms out for a hug; squeezing tightly. 

“You’ve no idea how happy you just made me.” Spike muttered against her hair, inhaling the subtle scent that was innately Fred; soft floral sweet peas with fruity peach undertones. Breaking apart, Spike swept a light kiss across her forehead and said, “Guess we best get back in there; lot’s of research to start on.”

Heading back into the living room, Spike was surprised to find Buffy sitting on the couch in between Angel and Gunn, chatting amicably with a wide smile pasted across her face. Her eyes flickered to his and her smile changed slightly, still wide and bright, but now knowing as it combined with her gaze that was full of understanding. Offering up a smile of his own, Spike flopped down onto the floor next to Fred and looked up at Wesley, who had arrived just after he and Fred had disappeared into the kitchen. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

“Right, well then, Buffy already filled us in on what she found out last night after I left and I must say, the idea that Willow is apparently siring again is a bit worrisome.” Clearing his throat, Wesley dug through his worn brown satchel and pulled out an ancient leather bound book. “I did some reading earlier this morning on the situation at hand and from what I can put together it seems as though this Willow may be building herself an army. Seems that the last time anyone tried to release Anyanka from Gorshlak, one of the main hell dimensions used to imprison and punish, they were nearly drained completely of any power or strength and ended up being defeated by a rather small group of warlocks and witches. Luckily, that meant the apocalypse was averted, Anyanka kept from destroying Earth and the unlucky subject who attempted the…I guess, a resurrection, of sorts was terminated. 

That incident occurred around 1100 A.D., unsure of the exact date thanks to hundred of years of translation, however, it seems that this Willow will need a willing human sacrifice to start the process. Sadly, I have been unable to translate the spell to close the portal once it has been open; which I figure we will need if we are unable to get through the masses of undead and make our way to Willow. Not to mention, we still need to figure out where this whole ordeal will be taking place.” Shoulders slumped; Wesley flopped down into the wingback chair and sighed. “Any ideas?” 

“Obviously, more patrol is needed, definitely figure out a way to stalk that psycho sire of Buffy’s and see if she can lead us to the destination for destruction, but as far as the spells…haven’t a clue, Wes.” Spike offered, idly fiddling with a stake he had found lodged underneath the coffee table. 

“Um…how about your dad, Spike? Or Fred? Wouldn’t they be our best bet for the hocus pocus aspect?” Buffy interjected, only to be met with a room full of blank stares. “What?”

“Why would they be our best bet, luv?” Spike mused, “Those two gonna throw books at the demons til they fall down?”

“Oh, well I thought they did all that stuff.” Once again met with questioning gazes, Buffy shrugged her shoulders and said, “I just thought with all that mojo rolling off the both of them that they practiced in magicks.” 

“Spike, I believe it’s about time to call your father, for him to come home early.” Wesley stated; ideas and thoughts practically visible in his eyes as his brain churned. “If what Buffy says is true, then I think we’ve just had a turn of events, a stroke of luck.”


	27. Chapter 27

“Geez, nervous much?’ Buffy muttered from the couch, where she was curled up with one of the numerous ancient texts Wesley had carried over earlier in the week. “You know, your Dad might not appreciate replacing the carpet when he gets here. What, with all the vanquishing of the demon from his house and all.” When she felt Spike’s angry glare boring into her skull, she peeked up from the book and grinned at him. “Hello? Sense of humor, much? I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Sorry, luv…it’s just that I’m a bit more nervous than I had anticipated…thought that four days to get my side of the argument together would be enough, but it seems like I’ll never be ready for the confrontation with my Da.” With a defeated look on his face, Spike flopped down next to her on the couch and settled for channeling his nervous energy through flicking his lighter, instead of pacing. 

“So, you’re pretty sure that he’s going to choose the angry, yelling course of action and not the ‘Hey, Buffy, welcome to the family’ kinda route?” Laying the book next to the couch, she sat up and scooted closer to Spike; nestling her head on his chest, his chin on the top of her head. “Guess it’s expected…our luck’s been too good so far, with the exception of Fred, but that worked out ok in the end, right?”

“Yeah, pet…Fred’s come ‘round, but not without causing us both a great deal of pain first. Not rightly sure that m’Da will handle the news as well.” Placing a kiss to the top of her head, Spike continued, “Of course, I’m hoping for the best, but expecting the worst when he arrives. Let’s just say that we’ve had our…disagreements over how to deal with...well, you. And, I am quite certain that he didn’t mean for the plan of action to include snogging or shagging, kitten…much less moving you into our home.”

“Spike, if my being here is going to continue to cause you trouble with your family and friends I can go back to the mansion. It’s not like I’m totally incapable to taking care of myself, you know?! I mean, I have been doing it for years now.” Pushing away from his chest, Buffy looked around the room uncertainly, before meeting his gaze. “Maybe I should just go?”

“No! You’re staying here and that’s that, pet. Already bloody told you that, quite arguing with me, yeah?” Leaning across the cushion that now separated them, Spike’s lips pressed against hers roughly as he pushed Buffy back against the arm rest. Their embrace quickly heated to a state of frenzied intensity, only to be interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door slamming shut. 

“Well, William, I’m rather pleased to find that my holiday was cut short so that I could be privy to your snogging session.” Rupert Giles interjected from the foyer, his voice laden with sarcasm as his bags dropped unceremoniously to the wooden floor. “And this would be…?”

“Da!” Spike choked out as he scrambled off of Buffy, who was busy redoing the buttons on her shirt. “I…uh…thought you were gonna ring when you arrived at the airport.”

“Nonsense, I arranged to have transportation waiting. I was under the impression my return was rather important and I didn’t want to pull you away from the necessary research just to travel all the way to Los Angeles and pick me up. Of course, judging by the lack of pertinent labor you were performing, I was greatly mistaken.” Crossing the room, Rupert idly flipped through the mail. “I do believe I instilled manners in this household, William. Do you plan to put them to use and introduce your lady friend?” 

“Oh, right…um, Da you two have already met actually. This is Buffy.” Visibly flinching from the expected response, Spike was both shocked and frightened by his father’s lack of response. “She’s…staying with…us.”

“Right. Very well then.” Rupert muttered, tossing the stack of envelopes back onto the desk; his hands wrapping around the chair back tightly, his knuckles whitening due to the force. “Miss Buffy, my son and I need to talk…privately. Do you mind?”

“O-kay, gotcha. I’ll be making myself scarce.” Buffy hastily replied, crawling off the couch and heading for the front door. “I’ll uh…make a sweep through the usual haunts; see if any baddies are out. I’ll meet you at the Bronze later, ok?” Waiting for Spike’s nod of approval, she disappeared out the front door; halfway down the street before the heavy wooden door closed.

“William, do you mind explaining to me as to why I came home to find you in a rather compromising position with a vampire? Do you have absolutely no respect for me or…anyone other than yourself, for that matter? After all she’s done!” Rupert’s normal composed decorum was quickly vanishing as his temper made itself known. “Well?!” He bellowed when his son’s response wasn’t as forthcoming as expected. “I will not have her living in my home, William!”

“Yes she bloody well will be living here, Da!” Spike yelled back, surprised at his response. Taking a deep breath, he calmed and started again. “Sorry for yelling, but Buffy’s staying."

"You can't possibly tell me that she doesn't have somewhere else to stay." His father asked, blatantly ignoring the tone of voice his son had taken with him. "Surely she has another option besides residing here.”

“She does, but I want her here…with me. Please, Da, you’re just going to have to trust me on this one. I need Buffy here with me. She’s important to what’s going on.” Spike insisted, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“I imagine her importance has more to do with the fact that she’s the reason for this entire debacle and less to do with assisting you in the matter of stopping Willow.” Rupert replied dryly, cocking an eyebrow at his offspring in a challenging manner. Before Spike could open his mouth to protest, the elder Giles held up his hand to stop his objections. “I do not wish to discuss this any further, William. I will trust your instincts for the time being, Buffy can continue to stay here, but only until this matter is taken care of. Once Sunnydale is returned to safety, I expect her to find residence elsewhere; preferably far away from this town.”

“You’re wrong about Buffy, Da.” Spike replied, his voice hardened with anger. “She’s changed, but if you refuse to accept that and give her a chance…then I will respect your demands. After I avert yet another apocalypse, she’ll be out of your house…along with me.”

“Very well, son, if that’s the way you feel, then I won’t stop you. I do hate to lose you, but I cannot force your decision. However, I do find it to be completely unbecoming of a Slayer to be involved with a vampire.” Rupert advised, his tone matching his son’s; dripping with distaste as the word vampire rolled of his tongue. “As for now, there is a far more important matter to discuss. Have you been able to locate any more information regarding the upcoming incident?”

“Nothing other than what Buffy was able to get out of Willy the Snitch. Thankfully, she was able to find out that much; otherwise we’d still be wandering around in the dark.” Spike paused long enough to shoot a disapproving look at his father in response to his muttering about Buffy’s involvement. “Actually, there has been mention of using some form of magick to stop Willow. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Spike asked, interested in hearing what his father’s response would be; his head cocked to the side as he noticed the slight pause Rupert gave before answering.

“Why on earth would you think I would know anything about magicks, son? As a Watcher, one is rarely trained on something so unstable as the dark arts.” Rupert replied, suddenly interested in the mail again. 

“It’s come to my attention that a certain vibe is given off by individuals involved with magick and apparently you are surrounded by it. Wouldn’t know why that is since you aren’t skilled in the practice?” Spike challenged; pleased by his father’s sudden change in demeanor. No longer was he the confident patriarch, but now resembled that of a man with something to hide. “Come on, Da…I can tell you aren’t being overly honest with me.”

Sighing, Rupert tossed the stack of envelopes to the table once more and turned to his son with defeat in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to know, son? My past is something that I am not proud of and have wished to remain silent about.” 

“If it will help me defeat Anyanka or stop Willow from being able to follow through with the resurrection…then, yes, I want…no need to know everything, Da. Please?” Spike urged; his voice softening as he tried to convince his father to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets. Sitting down on the couch, Spike motioned for Rupert to join him and was pleased when he did. 

“It’s been years since I’ve practiced, well over two decades actually. While I had always held an unnatural interest for magick, I only truly practiced the art for around five years; spanning from the time I turned eighteen to just before my twenty third birthday. That was when I came to realize…no, was forced to the realization that what I had been doing could cause pain to the people I loved. 

“There were four of us; a pathetic lot, really. One night our fascination took a turn for the worse, when our harmless bit of entertainment ended up with the death of one of our own. I still don’t know precisely what happened, but an enchantment went wrong, possibly from a bad translation of sorts, which released a demon instead of the spell that was intended. Before we were able to contain the demon, the youngest member of our circle, Gwendolyn Post, was found at the bottom of a ravine; her lifeless body crumpled and bloodied. Thankfully, we managed to reverse everything before anyone else was harmed.” Rupert took a shaky breath, holding back the tears he was unaware had accumulated, and glared at his son. “That was the last time I partook in the mystical arts, William. From that day forth, all of us swore to refrain from magicks.”

“I never imagined…” Spike muttered, “Da, I understand the apprehension you must feel about this discussion, but I honestly believe that with your assistance we might actually have a chance against Willow and her army.” Seeing the look of ambivalence on his father’s face, Spike pushed, “You don’t have to decided now, we’ve got a little time to figure out the best course of action. Just think about it, yeah?” 

After an agreement of sorts, Spike pulled on his duster and headed out for patrol; doing a quick sweep of four different cemeteries before realizing that no one was out. The mood was disturbingly hushed; an eerie silence had fallen over the foggy darkness. Tucking his stake into the coat’s pocket, he started in the direction of the Bronze; his senses heightened in preparation for any time of covert attack that Willow might be planning. 

In the midst the pulsating lights and writhing bodies on the dance floor, Buffy prowled along the edges; no longer in search of her latest victim. Now she was seeking a very familiar scent, one that her body had ravaged on more than one occasion, but had never grown fully accustomed to. Mysterious and sultry, laced with a hint of vulnerability, the potent fragrance tinged the air and assaulted Buffy’s senses. Stalking along the shadows, Buffy followed the scent as its wearer flittered about the club; as if she knew Buffy was tracking her. 

Nearing the darkened overhang located by the stairs, Buffy’s hand clasped around the cool metal pole as she swung around to plant herself directly in front of her prey. Eye to eye, chocolate colored eyes penetrated jade depths as they sized up one another’s presence. Inhaling deeply, Buffy nearly allowed a groan of arousal to slip past her lips as the heavily perfumed air clouded her mind. It had been a long time, but her body still reacted just as intensely as it had so many years ago. There was only one difference now; Buffy’s hormones and blood lust were no longer as out of control as they had once been and hadn’t been since becoming involved with Spike. 

Calming the emotions that swirled beneath the calm surface, Buffy smiled darkly and inquired, “So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Chuckling deep in her throat, Faith replied, “Who me? Ah, nothing…just having a good time, but you know all about that doing that, right? What we had was nothing but a good time to you, was it?”

“Wow, Faith, who knew you’d be on the train to Bitter-town?” Buffy replied sarcastically. “Don’t tell me you came all the way across the country just to pout about our break-up. You that hard up for a date?”

“Hey, just living up to my promise.” Faith shot back, anger lacing through the composed appearance she was desperately trying to portray. “Oh, wait…you’d already walked out the door before I had a chance to respond to your…sudden departure. Basically, decided to make you pay for leaving me. The whole shebang…suffering, misery, pain…you know the drill right? You know, being a vampire and all.”

“Yeah, I’m not really looking to buy your exact brand of crazy, Faith.” Knowing exactly what buttons to push to incite anger in her ex-lover, Buffy’s smile brightened when her jab hit the spot. “Aw, was that pissy of me? So sorry, but I don’t take to kindly to threats.”

“Oh, it’s not a threat, Buffy. You can count on that.” Faith seethed, teeth clenched tightly together. “When we’re through with you and your little playmate, you’ll wish you’d just stayed with me in New York!”

“We? Have you taken to carrying a mouse in your pocket or have you finally gone insane and developed another personality?”

“You’ll find out soon enough!” Faith shouted loud enough to cause nearby patrons to stare in their direction. “She promised you’d suffer and I’m going to love watching you wriggle around in pain. We’ll see how much you like loosing your precious Slayer!” Faith’s eyes went wide as she realized what she had said. “I’ve gotta split, B. See ya round, ok?” She started in the direction of the stairs, only to be jerked backwards when Buffy’s talons dug into the tender skin of her upper arm. “Hey! Hands off!”

‘Not so fast, Faith! You’re working with Willow, aren’t you? Huh, guess you have gone insane. Don’t you remember what I told you about her?” Buffy pulled Faith close to her body, barking into her ear.” She’ll do nothing but hurt you.”

“Can’t hurt any worse than what you’ve already done. At least she’s promised to do what you didn’t have the guts to!” Tears streaked Faith’s face in anger as she struggled against Buffy’s hold. “Let me go!” She shrieked, clawing at the blonde’s pale skin leaving scratch marks slashing across her arm. 

“Is there a problem here?” They were asked a burly man with a goatee, who was obviously a bouncer. Eyeballing the petite women, he reached out and removed Buffy’s hand from around Faith’s arm and said, “I think you need to leave the lady alone.” He informed Buffy, before turning to the sniffling brunette. “You all right, Miss?” 

“Yeah, just ready to leave.” Faith wiped at the tears drying on her cheeks and asked, “Will you walk me out? Don’t really want her to follow.” Smiling up at the looming bald man, Faith turned on the sickeningly sweet charm that always had men eating out of her hand and allowed him to walk her in the direction of the exit, leaving Buffy bewildered. 

As she watched helplessly as Faith was escorted out of the building, Buffy ground her teeth in frustration; torn between following Faith or finding Spike and filling him in on the latest news. Opting for locating the Slayer, figuring Faith was just stupid enough to allow them to find her later, Buffy quickly left the Bronze in search of Spike.


	28. Chapter 28

After searching four graveyards without any luck, Buffy’s mood had worsened considerably. “Stupid town, too many graveyards.” She grumbled, kicking at a wayward soda can in the middle of the street. “I mean, you’d think if that many people were kicking the bucket that everyone else would move away. Don’t know why humans want to live on the Hellmouth anyway.” Kicking the can on final time, sending it flying across the empty street into a row of hedges, Buffy headed through the wrought iron gates of the fifth resting place in that area of town.

 _‘Eerily quiet tonight, wonder where all the baddies are.’ she thought as she wove through the rows of tombstones in search of the Slayer. ‘Guess they’re all hanging out together somewhere that I am obviously not.’ Checking the empty cemetery off her list, she headed out the back entrance in the direction of last one in that neighborhood._

While she walked, her mind wandered back to the incident with Faith at the club. _‘How did those two end up together. Make a pretty good pair though; both of them are a few French fries short of a Happy meal. Crazy bitches.’_ Cutting through the park, Buffy tried Spike’s cell again and growled when she was greeted with his voicemail again. “Why carry the stupid thing if you aren’t going to keep it on?” She muttered, cramming the pink jeweled phone into her back pocket. Instantly, her mind went back to the sudden coupling of her two former lovers. “What could Willow possibly want with Faith? What could she possibly gain from…shit. Shit, shit, shit! Faith’s the fucking sacrifice! That stupid bitch actually believes that Willow will turn her before she croaks!” Buffy exclaimed, feeling slightly ignorant for not figuring it out sooner. “Ok, then if that really is the plan, then what did she mean about making me pay…what are they planning to do to Spike? I mean, other than the apocolypsy thing. Come on, Summers! It’s not like we’re working with a lot of time to figure it out.” With her face scrunched with heavy concentration, she made her way through the park and down the street towards Restfield cemetary. About halfway down the street from her destination, an idea clicked in her head that was so obvious Buffy was fairly certain a light bulb was shining brightly above her head. Quickly, she dug her phone back out of her pocket and scrolled through the numbers until the desired digits popped out and hit the call button; paying no attention to the time. 

It took one full loop of the Star Wars theme song before the line was answered, “Hey Andrew, it’s Buffy! Were you asleep or something?” Flicking her wrist, she consulted her watch and said, “It’s only what...around midnight there?”

“Not so much, I’m not in Manhattan.” Andrew Wells answered, sitting up in the bed and switching on the lamp. “It’s a little after four here. I’m in Prague, got sent here last week on assignment. So, long time no talk Miss Buffy, one can only assume you are in need of information at this hour.”

“Actually, yeah…got a little bit of a problem brewing on the Hellmouth and wanted to see if you could scrounge through those books of your and help me out.” Buffy confirmed sheepishly, hating that he knew her so well and feeling bad about not keeping in touch with her friend. They had known one another for nearly ten years now, after Andrew had stalked her at length hoping to become the next Anne Rice of vampire novels. Once she had gotten it through his rather thick skull that she wasn’t the inspiration for his first novel they had struck up a friendship of sorts and she had found out that his curiosity about demons was the result of finding out he was half-demon himself. 

His father, a Lornax demon from Canada, had passed away just before Andrew’s second birthday by the hands of the Slayer, which prompted his mother to hide his demon lineage as long as possible in attempts to keep her small child safe. Upon his sixteenth birthday while blowing out the candles on his cake, poor Andrew received the biggest surprise ever when his demon had burst forth, giving his guests quite a scare. After a long discussion with his mother, an anthropology professor at a nearby college, Andrew’s interest in the paranormal and demonic cultures of the world had been peaked. Once he had graduated high school, he had set off on an educational trek which had led him straight to Buffy.

“Alright, let me get something to write on.” Andrew muttered on the other end. After a bit of paper rustling, he returned and said, “Give it to me.” 

Quickly, she filled him in on all the details thus far and was presented with dead air when she was finished. “Um, Andrew, are you still there? Think you can give an old friend a hand?”

“Wow, I must say that you have presented me with quite a challenge which I readily accept. I’ll get on it immediately, ok? I’ll give you a call as soon as I find something out.” He replied with a chuckle, “You want me to email you whatever I find, too?”

“Ooh, that’d be awesome. I’m going to have to give the Watcher some type of written proof of the findings. Just send it to my Yahoo account, you still have the address?” Buffy responded with a smile as she arrived at the entrance of the cemetery and saw Spike tussling with a small group of fledgling vamps. 

“You haven’t changed it since last time have you? Its still _sexylildeadgirl_ , right?”

“Same as always! Thanks for doing this for us, Andrew. Call me day or night when you find something out, ok?” Flipping the cell phone shut, she stuffed it back into her pocket and easing just inside the gates to enjoy the show.

Watching Spike fight had to be one of the biggest turn-ons for Buffy; knowing his skill was poetry in motion, or a heady display of sexual energy in her book. Her body responded to his well placed punches and stakes as he dusted each vampire with deadly accuracy; tingles coursed across her skin as she leaned perched atop of a tombstone and watched the show. 

“See something you like, pet?” Spike inquired with a lustful leer as he approached Buffy, clouds of dust settling in his wake. Planting himself directly in front of her, he nestled between her thighs and leaned in for a kiss. 

“I always have been a sucker for some mindless violence.” She muttered against his lips, relishing in the taste of him. “Gets me all hot and bothered, ya know.” Wrapping her legs around his narrow waist, she pulled him closer and groaned as his erection pressed against her aching center. “Mmm…seems I’m not the only one here all worked up.”

“Oh, I’m more than worked up, kitten. I’m downright overheated.” Spike replied gruffly, leaning forward to capture her tiny lobe between his teeth. “Think you can cool me down.” Smiling into the soft skin of her neck, Spike chuckled at the garbled response flowing from her mouth. “What was that, luv?”

“I…uh, had something…to um, tell you. Researchy stuff.” She muttered softly, her words turning to moans when Spike’s hand dipped between their bodies and rubbed against her denim covered clit while mouth did mind-numbingly wonderful things to her neck. “Oh, but for the love of Pete…I have no…um, idea what it…mmm…was right now. Oh!” She cried when his teeth bit down sharply on her neck. “I need you…want…now!” Her moans grew louder as she wiggled with uncontrollable desire in his arms. “Please…take…me…NOW!”

Pulling Buffy off the headstone, Spike kissed her passionately before spinning her around and pushing her against the cold marble. His hands slid over her ass, caressing the tender swells of flesh before reaching around and unfastening the button fly of her black jeans; roughly pushing the pants down so that the luscious globes of milky white skin were bare. Tightly he gripped them with his hands, no doubt marring the pale flesh with a bright smattering of half moon nail prints in his wake; all the while sending a sharp flash of pleasurable pain through his lover’s body that had her keening with desire. “Fuck, but you’re sexy, luv.” He ground out, his jaw clenched with need. Quickly, he pulled on hand away from Buffy’s ass and undid the fastening of his jeans to release his throbbing cock. Placing it at her dripping entrance, he warned, “Hang on, kitten…this is gonna be rough.” 

“Damnit, Spike! Shut up and fuck me already!” Buffy demanded, thrusting her ass back against him in wanton need and sighed with pleasure as her requests were met. “Oh, fuck…mmm…harder, Spike!”

“Bossy lil’ chit this evenin’….not that I mind.” Spike replied, each syllable punctuated with a thrust of his hips. Gripping her hips with bruising force, he plowed into her tight channel from behind; delighting in each moan of satisfaction that burst forth from Buffy. 

Their coupling was rough, frenzied and downright animalistic; their need for one another so intense that the world around them melted away. Cries of passion filled the cemetery, the light from the moon lighting the grounds softly, a faint breeze fluttered by; rustling the trees and sending chills across their exposed skin. 

Nearing her release, Buffy gripped the granite slab with unearthly force, sending fragments tumbling to the ground as they were crumbled beneath her fingers. When the searing flash of ecstasy ripped through her body a scream of passion burst forth and her inner muscles clamped around Spike’s shaft with inhuman strength; milking his cock and releasing his own earth shattering release; his cries of gratification covering her own. 

Several moments passed as they leaned against the broken headstone, his body pressed heavily against hers as his heart raced and he gulped for air. “If watching me slay get this type of reaction, pet…you’re patrolling with me every bloody night.” Spike muttered between pants. Pulling out, he tucked himself back into his pants and helped Buffy straighten up as much as possible before gazing guiltily at the tombstone left broken in their wake. “Remind me to have that fixed. That is if we avert the end of the world an’ all.”

“Apocalypse!” Buffy shrieked with a smile on her face as the news she needed to tell him returned. “I’ve figured out who the human sacrifice is! If we can get to her, then maybe it will totally ruin Will’s plans!” 

“Ok, if you found her then where might she be, kitten?” 

“Yeah, slight problem with that. She kinda got away, but it was all that overgrown oaf of a bouncer’s fault! Normally I’d a just killed him, but I didn’t think you’d be all approvy of that.” Buffy replied with a guilty look. “Oh, but um…it’s Faith and she’s bound to screw up and let me find her eventually…hot, but not overly bright, ya know?”

“Right then, who’s Faith and how do you know she’s the one?” Spike probed as they headed home. 

Sheepishly, she glanced out of the corner of her eye, “She’s um…kinda my other ex-girlfriend.”


	29. Chapter 29

Over the course of the weekend, the mood of the group had faltered; sinking into a pit of despair that rivaled the foreboding darkness that lay just beyond the window pane where mountains of clouds filled the charcoal gray sky as if Mother Nature were casting the appropriate background for the macabre play that was unfolding. While in most situations, one could consider no news to be good news; however, the old saying didn’t ring true in the case of averting apocalypses’. After two days of scouring every book available, which was quite a bit between Wesley and Rupert’s separate collections, the group had yet to produce anything of substantial use to stop the rising demon and the psychotic vampire intent on awakening her and had finally been sent home for a much needed break. 

As the clock ticked away, signaling the rapidly approaching rising of the new moon only three short days away, Wesley checked his email in hopes that Buffy’s friend was able to locate the useful information that they had failed to find thus far. Scanning through the droves of useless mail, his hopes soared when he spotted the coveted message and quickly clicked on the link. Three times he read the through Andrew’s findings, each time silently praying that what was posted in front of his eyes was very much false information. Printing out the email, he jotted down the aforementioned titles that the half-breed used for research, Wesley grabbed his cell phone and called Rupert; insisting that he come over quickly.

Leaning back against the soft, worn leather of the antique armchair, Wesley removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. His heart was heavy with grief and his body shook with barely contained rage as his mind wandered over the implications of Andrew’s email. If he was indeed correct with his information, the world as they knew it would never be the same after the ritual; win or lose, they would suffer a great loss. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Across town, Buffy stretched languidly as she awoke from a much needed mid-afternoon nap; fighting the good fight had brought on more changes than expected and she was struggling to adjust to the schedule of the Slayer and his cohorts. Glancing at the clock, it’s red digits glowing bright in the drape darkened room, she noted that Spike wouldn’t be back from his classes for at least another two hours and seriously considered rolling back over and sleeping until he returned. When she heard the shrill sound of the telephone and the tell tale sound of Rupert’s displeased voice that she was way too accustomed to, Buffy got out of bed and shrugged on a robe before tiptoeing out into the hallway for closer inspection. Since Rupert had returned and repeatedly announced his displeasure with her presence in the household, Buffy had taken to sneaking around and virtually hiding from her lover’s rather overbearing father. 

Easing quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky step midway down, she listened in on the elder Giles’s conversation; pushing down the nauseating feeling of guilt that had snuck into her daily life. Extending her vampire senses, she discovered that the Watcher had received the much anticipated correspondence from Andrew and seemed rather upset by whatever her demon friend had discovered. Chewing on her bottom lip, she wondered how bad the findings were and was startled when the front door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the mirror in the foyer. Realizing that Rupert had left without saying goodbye, not that his rudeness surprised her at this point, Buffy sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom and made a beeline for the laptop perched on top of Spike’s dresser. 

Pulling it onto the bed with her, she logged onto her email and located Andrew’s email; pleased as punch that he had followed her instructions to send one email to the Watcher and a separate one to her account. As she read through his email, Buffy’s eyes watered with sadness and despair as Andrew’s findings seeped into her mind. With the exception of the possibility of one piece of weaponry that could assist in defeating the bloodthirsty demon, there was still a very slim chance that it would work in averting the upcoming apocalypse. The images that her mind conjured as she reread the message were gruesome and she realized that the last vestige of optimism was slithering away with the hopes that the world would remain as it was.

Jumping from the bed, Buffy swiftly dressed in a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt and boots and clamored down the stairs with a look of determination plastered across her face. Checking to make sure the sky was still darkened with heavy rain clouds; she sprinted down the sidewalk and headed towards town in search of the one person who could possibly help ward off the upcoming danger…Faith.

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Sitting in the middle of the sagging mattress in her room at the Sunnydale Motel, Faith Lehane mindlessly chewed on the already jagged ends of her fingernails and waited as patiently as possibly for Willow to return. After informing the red headed vampire that she had accidentally leaked some potentially important information to the enemy, Faith had been ordered to stay inside the dingy motel room unless accompanied by Willow or one of her minions. Amazingly, the normally headstrong and temperamental brunette allowed for the Master Vampire to control her like a little child. 

As the minutes on the clock slowly dragged by, her patience quickly ran out and Faith crawled off the bed in search of much needed food and possibly other forms of entertainment with or without permission from her so called keeper. Grabbing her chain wallet, she stuffed it in her back pocket at the same time she flung the door open and started to step outside; only to be pushed back inside the dank room by a pair of powerful hands. 

“You can’t come in here!” She shouted indignantly as Buffy pushed her way into the motel room. “You weren’t invited.” Faith pouted like a petulant child as her former blonde lover shoved her back onto the threadbare comforter.

“Read the fine print next time, Faith.” Buffy replied smugly, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down at her ex-girlfriend. “This isn’t your home, just a place Willow put you up in so that you were out of her hair. And that totally means that I can come in anytime I feel the need to; which won’t be too often since…eww…how can anyone sleep on that bed? Can we say washing machine? I’d hate to see what the bathroom looks like.”

“Did you come here just to insult my choice in living arrangements, B?” Faith asked, digging in her pocket for a cigarette as she glared at Buffy with hateful eyes. “Or did you actually have a purpose for this unwelcomed visit?”

Buffy grinned in spite of the situation, her mind flashing back to the time in her life that she shared with the spitfire in front of her. Shaking away the feeling of nostalgia, she got right to the point and asked softly, her voice laden with despair, “You realize that she’s not going to turn you, right? It’s a trick to get you to sacrifice yourself for her big Doomsday production. It has to be willing for the whole thing to work and Willow’s a master at promising whatever your heart desires so that she can bend you to her will.” Sinking down to her knees, Buffy timidly placed her hands on Faith’s thighs and pleaded to her with sad eyes. “Please don’t go through with this, Faith. You have no idea what she’s really got planned. It’s not going to go the way you hope and I truly don’t want to see you dead.”


	30. Chapter 30

Slowly, the clock crept towards the bewitching hour as Spike navigated the ancient black car down the rustic moonlit roadway. Silence filled the air, suffocating in its thickness and laced with the mounting anxiety that rolled off the platinum blonde in waves. His white knuckled hands grasped the steering wheel and he chewed his luscious bottom lip in contemplation; mentally replaying everything that had been said and done at that evenings meeting, as well as what hadn’t.

“Argh!” Spike growled, slapping the wheel with barely contained frustration. “What the bleeding hell was that all about?”

“That, being…what?” Buffy asked tentatively, daintily licking on a cherry flavored lollipop and staring out the car window. Hearing Spike growl with aggravation, she giggled and added, “I mean, we’ve been on the road for like thirty minutes and the most exciting thing so far, aside from the stimulating non-conversation thing, was the caution light a couple miles ago. So, splainy please.”

“Don’t be daft! I’m talking about what happened at the meeting, or rather, what wasn’t discussed. I’m not bleeding blind, Buffy!” He all but growled in response. With a loud sigh, Spike reached on top of the dashboard and grabbed the rumpled pack of cigarettes he had tossed up there before the trip. Inhaling deeply, he continued, “Between whatever nonsense my father and Wesley are obviously up to, with the hushed conversations and hooded glances around the room, I have to come home and find you sporting a fresh set of bruises, care to explain were they came from?”

“Nothing major.” Buffy mumbled, careful to avoid hitting the nasty gash on her bottom lip with the sucker. “I tried to persuade Faith into leaving Willow and that ignorant plan of theirs alone, but the only agreement that was made was between her fist and my mouth. Stubborn ass woman.”

“And your little excursion couldn’t have waited for me? What…just had to make some kind of gesture to prove to everyone else that you’re fighting the good fight, now? Or, maybe you wanted to weasel back into the good graces of your former lovers, yeah?” Spike bit out, letting his anger at finding Buffy injured control his response. Upon hearing the sharp, unneeded intake of breath from the opposite side of the car, guilt over his reaction plagued his soul and made his heart heavy with grief. “Buffy, pet…I’m sorry for that. I’m a bad, rude man; please forgive me.”

“Oh, look!” She exclaimed with false enthusiasm as she pointed out the window. “Grapevines, which I’m guessing are standard, issue decoration for a vineyard. This must be our destination, pull over.” Sensing he was about to start up again with the apologies, Buffy waved him off and said, “Not now. We’re here for a reason and it’s not to fight with each other, ok? We’ll deal with it later.” 

Minutes later, the car was parked and they ventured side by side down the aged cobblestone path towards the rickety looking rundown vineyard. “Why do these places always have to be so bloody difficult to find? Would it be so hard to lock them safely in a well lit, public place? No, of course not, have to be bleeding buried beneath a crumbling shack to add that element of danger from the sodding roof collapsing.” Spike crumbled, crushing his cigarette beneath the heel of his boot before pushing the creaky wooden door open to reveal an even more desolate sight before them. “Oh, well tha’s just brilliant, innit?”

“What? Poor lil’ Slayer actually needs a floor to walk on?” Buffy retorted, only half joking as she deftly made her way across the broken rafters and cracked floorboards towards the middle of the room. “Aw, come on, Slayer! You aren’t going to let a girl show you up, are you?” She called out, taunting the still grumbling Slayer as he gradually made his way across the wrecked flooring until he was finally standing just a few short feet away from Buffy with a smug look on his face. “Don’t give me that look; you’re only over here because your manhood was threatened. So, where do you think this axe thingy is?”

“Scythe, luv…like the Grim Reaper carries about.” Spike clarified, holding out a hand for support as Buffy worked her way down the dilapidated stairway. “Course, I’ve got no idea what it looks like, where it is and how we’re going to find the damned thing.”

“Well, since this whole adventure was big on the cryptic, I’m going to guess the prize is totally at the bottom of the cereal box.” She replied wryly, staring down the whole in the middle of the staircase, giving the couple a bird’s eye view of the filthy basement below.

“I’m guessing we jump now?”

“Might as well, pet. It doesn’t seem like the rest of the stairs will hold us anyway, yeah?” Still clutching her tiny hand in his, they nimbly descended into the dank darkness of the vineyard’s basement. The nagging sensation that had plagued him since they entered the building finally accumulated and left a sinking sensation deep in his belly. Glancing around the dimly lit basement, it occurred to Spike that an abandoned vineyard shouldn’t be aglow with romantic lighting. He was about to mention this to Buffy, when she shrieked and motioned to the corner of the cellar like a child on Christmas. “Well, would you look at that?” Spike muttered, disbelief filling his words as he started across the room to where the object of their desire was perched on top of a chunk of rock. “It’s a bit like the Sword in the Stone, yeah?”

“Quit with the awe and pull it out already!” Buffy burst out, the thrill of their find combined with the anticipation that had built since Andrew had mentioned the specially designed weaponry finally spilling over. “Ooh! It’s pretty!”

“Yes, indeed it is and may I extend our thanks to you, Slayer, for being here to remove it for us?” A cold, eerie voice commented from behind them. “Now, would you be so kind to hand it over?”

“Not bloody likely.” Spike announced as he singlehandedly yanked the gleaming silver and blood red scythe from the mountain of rock that had been its home for centuries. “Don’t tell me that was too hard for you? ‘S like running a hot knife through butter; was so easy. You must be a bleeding weakling, mate.” Hoping off the rock mantle he’d been standing on, Spike took a menacing step towards the decrepit vampire huddled before them.

“At my age, one does tend to not fare well with such…physical requirements. However, that’s why it is oh so necessary to travel with protection.” With a wave of his hand, the brown cloth swaddled vampire motioned behind him, where at least a dozen snarling vampires were poised to attack. “Our lovely leader predicted that you would come sniffing around for your precious scythe. She’ll be so pleased to find out she was right!”

“I’m hurt! You expected me to be here and yet, you only brought this pathetic group? ‘Fraid you bruised my ego.” Spike replied snarkily. Twirling the weapon in his hand like a baton he sauntered towards the impressive group and prayed that they couldn’t smell the emotions that radiated from inside. Although fear wasn’t one of them, trepidation certainly was and for a brief second he faltered in his decision to attack; wondering if just the two of them could take on the double digit crowd. Just then, he saw Buffy spring into action, pouncing like a predatory feline at the octogenarian in command. “Right then, off we go!” With a ferocious battle cry, Spike catapulted himself into the fray, swinging the scythe with precise accuracy; his body radiating with the energy that emanated from the ancient weapon.

Side by side, they fought with the deadly precision of two skilled warriors and slowly the numbers against them dwindled off until there were only five remaining. Spike had lost sight of Buffy and figured that she had disappeared to the other side of the room in search of other opponents. Spinning quickly, he staked an approaching vamp with the wooden end of the weapon and grinned proudly as the dust settled to the floor.

Another approached and for a brief moment, Spike wondered why they always seemed to attack one at a time. Strategically, it would have been to their advantage to rush them head on with a surprise group attack; which would undoubtedly been more to their benefit with lesser fatalities on their side. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured their stupidity would be his gain and jumped back into the fight and took down another vampire in the blink of an eye. 

Sensing one of the enemies approaching from behind as another stalked towards him, Spike swung the blade forward in a perfect arc and sliced the head off the one in front with ease, before thrusting the wooden stake under his arm to stab the one behind in one fluid motion. Satisfied that the second hit had landed perfectly, he pounced on top of a nearby crate and flung himself in the direction of the final vampire; landing on his feet at the same time the scythe decapitated the creature.

Pleased with the outcome, Spike wiped the dust that had settled on his shirt to the floor and turned around to find Buffy. Blood drained from his body, his face chalk white as his eyes instantly filled with tears as his gaze fell upon her stilled body. 

Crumpled next to the stairs, Buffy struggled to gain her footing, but failed do so when another white hot flash of pain ripped through her midsection. Forcing her eyes to open, she glanced down to where her bloodstained hands covered the gaping wound in her belly. Tears of pain coursed down her cheeks and she lifted her head in search of Spike; their eyes connected and time froze briefly as the sorrow in his gaze washed over her. Less than a second later, he was next to her; his tears slipping from his face to mix with the blood covering her shaking hands. 

“I’ll be fine, really.” Buffy insisted, pushing away his hands as he frantically tried to lift her shirt to inspect the wounds. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t wear my good shirt, huh?” Her pathetic excuse for humor came out in a ragged whisper as the pain coursed through her body and all thoughts she may have had about the white tank top, chosen at the last minute, flew right out of her mind.

“Oh, God! Buffy, luv…I…I didn’t know it was you.” Spike sobbed, “I…just felt a vampire behind me…GOD! I should have looked!” Chest heaving, he choked back his tears and reached into his boot for the knife he had tucked away just in case. Bringing it to his wrist, he placed the tip against the pulsating blue vein just beneath the alabaster skin. “You need blood.” He stated, rather than asking, as his hands shook with guilt and fear. 

“Spike, no!” Buffy whispered as she made a pathetic attempt to push away his offerings. “I can’t…shouldn’t, I don’t think I can control it, the demon, right now. Please, just wait until we get home, ok? We really need to get out of here.”

Nodding, Spike tucked the knife back into his boot and carefully tucked Buffy into his arms. With the scythe grasped tightly in Buffy’s tiny hands, Spike quickly navigated his way through the rapidly darkening basement and back up into the main quarters of the vineyard. Glancing down at the precious bundle in his arms, his heart briefly clutched with fear when he noticed her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing, before remembering that Buffy would be dust if the worse case scenario did occur.

Once outside, he sprinted up the walkway to the car; throwing open the passenger side door with little grace. Carefully placing Buffy into the seat, he swiftly removed his black T-shirt, bunched it up and covered the abdomen wound with it. “Buffy, sweetheart? I need you to hold this, yeah? Gotta keep pressure on it, luv.” Satisfied that she would do as she was told, he slid across the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat; throwing the car in gear before the door was closed.

Just shy of thirty minutes later, Spike barreled through the front door of his home; sufficiently startling the remaining occupants. “I need blood, now!” He bellowed, stomping over to the couch and glared at the couple sitting on it until Fred and Angel scurried away. Gently, he laid the precious cargo in his arms on the couch and kneeled on the floor beside her; mentally willing his love to open her beautiful green eyes. Intently focused on the unconscious vampire, the rest of the room faded away until a delicate hand placed a coffee cup of warmed blood in front of him. Glancing up, he spotted Tara and muttered a grateful offering of thanks before turning back to Buffy.

The next couple of hours passed infuriatingly slow for the couple who were now located in their bedroom, since Spike had found it increasingly difficult to deal with the other people in the living room with them. After a quick wash in the shower, where he had soothingly washed away the caked blood that stained her slowly healing stomach, Spike had crawled into bed beside her; settling in for a long night. Thankfully, shortly before sunrise, he had been greeted with the wonderful sight of her luminous eyes staring back at him. Instantly, Spike’s eyes had filled with tears, which led to kissing and eventually, they made love just before dawn.

Checking once more to make sure Spike was indeed asleep, Buffy quickly dressed in a clean tank top and silk pajama bottoms before slipping downstairs for nourishment. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, she was startled to find Rupert sitting at the table, reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of coffee. “Morning.” She whispered, heading directly to the refrigerator and grabbing a bag of blood for breakfast. 

“Spike told me what happened,” Giles spoke up, immediately getting to the point, “He mentioned that you refused to take blood from him after you were injured, even though it was offered freely.”

“Yeah, well…he’s not here to be dinner for me.” Buffy muttered, leaning against the counter as she sipped from the coffee cup, “It would have been too dangerous, couldn’t risk it. You sound surprised.”

“Yes, well, you are demon even though you seem to forget that fact quite regularly.” Giles replied with distaste. “Of course, it changes nothing, you understand. We will be proceeding with the plan set forth by myself and Wesley, the other nonsense is off the table. And, there will be no mention of it to Spike, do you understand?”

“Figured as much, leave it to a bunch of ‘Know it all’ Watcher’s to ignore any information given to them by anyone other than their precious Council. Is it because your poor little egos might be bruised by listening to someone like Andrew? Can’t bear the fact that a demon might know more than you do?” Buffy replied bitterly as she glared at Spike’s father, her eyes blaring with rage. “Can you honestly ignore what he said…even if it might save your son?!”

“Listen here, we will do what is in the best interest for everyone and no one, especially not you, will convince me otherwise!” Rupert ground out, slamming his cup to the table with enough force to splatter the steaming liquid over the sides. “It’d be best if you realize that your opinion in this matter is neither wanted nor needed and all in all, the best thing you could do at this moment would be to bloody well disappear.” Pushing the chair back, Rupert stood up and prepared to leave the room, “I do not trust you, this whole situation suddenly appeared at the same time you did and I find that to be a little more than just a mere coincidence. Sadly, I cannot convince my son otherwise. Lowering his voice, he added, “Mark my words, if given the chance…I will dispose of you properly, consequences be damned.”


	31. Chapter 31

Two days passed, forty eight long hours, and finally, the night in question was upon them. The sun was nearly finished with its daily descent, giving way to the new moon that currently hung low in the dimly lit sky as the warriors headed out on their mission armed with a variety of weapons and magical ingredients.

Holding up the back of the line, Rupert glared at Buffy’s back as she took her place up front with his son. Distrust and loathing curdled in his stomach as he thought back to Wesley’s startling discovery after waking up early that morning. Still shaken from the find, the Watcher had recounted the morning’s activities as he slumped in his favored armchair in the Giles’s living room.

 _”It’s gone, Rupert! Everything we’ve worked so diligently at over the past two weeks was taken.”_ Wesley had announced, running his shaking hands through his disheveled hair. _“I’ve no earthly idea how the thieves managed to gain entry, no bleeding clue! A vampire wouldn’t have permission to enter and a human would’ve had to get past my security system, it’s mind-boggling!"_

Of course, while Wesley had sat in wonder and desperately tried to figure out what could have happened, the cogs in Rupert’s head had started up. A vampire could have easily made entrance to the apartment if they had already gained permission at an earlier date. Plus, he was quite sure that a stealthy creature of the night could very effortlessly move around the apartment without setting off the alarm system. These conclusions had instantly led Rupert to one suspect…Buffy. Unfortunately, Rupert knew that if he rallied against the Buffy, Spike would have turned against him; which infuriated him even further. Continuing on the journey to the abandoned warehouse that the ceremony was rumored to be held, Rupert kept his eyes trained on the traitor’s back the entire time.

Nervously, Fred shuffled forward with the rest of the gang. Her hands tightly were clutched around the small satchel filled with an assortment of magical needs. She was frightened beyond belief, afraid not only of the impending fight, but of the role she played. Since the spell to stop the portal from being opened had disappeared from Wesley’s apartment, they had had to scurry around to find something…any type of spell that might assist their fight if needed. Thankfully, Tara had spotted a dampening spell in one of Rupert’s old texts and hopefully, it would work. Designed only to draw strength from a being, it would at least assist in slowing down the powerful demon if she was released from her prison. Biting her lip, her mind raced wildly with all the possible ways she could manage to mess up the spell.

Angel marched beside his lifelong friend, Gunn, both armed to the hilt with matching swords and pockets laden with bottles of holy water. While he wore a brave mask, inside he quivered with fear. Fear of what was to come, fear of what he would have to do and fear that they might not make it out alive. Cutting his eyes to the left, he made contact with Charles and saw the understanding in his dark eyes. Realizing that he wasn’t alone in his fright, Angel clutched the leather wrapped handle with a clammy hand and marched on.

Rounding the corner of Beech St. and Harbor Dr. the abandoned shipping facility loomed ahead of them. Breaking off into groups, they entered the darkened warehouse and headed towards the basement where the ritual was supposed to occur. Spike and Buffy went in first, managing to take out a handful of guards before disappearing into the stairwell. 

Wesley headed to an alcove, which was located just above the proposed ritual site according to the buildings blueprints, with Fred and Tara in tow. Assisting in lighting the appropriate candles for the spell, he helped lay out the ingredients and other items that Fred would need in order to perform the spell if it was called for. Thankfully, Tara had dabbled in a little witchcraft in her earlier days at college and had offered to stay with the very apprehensive Fred to help ground her during the magicks. Once the girls were settled in, he gathered his own weapons and headed towards the basement to join the others. 

Rupert followed Angel and Gunn into the dank basement, surprised that they had only encountered a few well placed guards and not the swarm they had planned for. However, his mounting enthusiasm was quickly dashed when they entered the ritual site and was faced with what appeared to be close to fifty snarling demons that were ready and willing to feast on them. Raising their weapons, the trio waded into the masses and launched the fight of their lives.

Up above, supposedly safe from the danger below, Tara cried out in surprise as she was grabbed from behind. Struggling against her captor, she was dragged backwards into another room, while Fred was left to fend off her own attacker. Wiggling in the vampire’s arms, she struck out with her elbow and managed to land a painful blow to her chest, which was just enough to wrestle out of the hold. Turning to face the raven haired creature, Tara did just as Spike had shown her and swiftly staked the evil beast directly in her heart; sending waves of dust to the floor. Quickly, she hurried back into the hidden room just in time to see Fred tossed over the railing. With a shout of fury, Tara rushed the demon, plunging her stake into his back and striking his heart. Stepping through the cloud of dust, she leaned over the railing just in time to see Fred land on the stone floor with a thud.

Wesley fended off an approaching vampire, dusting him in passing, as he hurried to the site of the fallen novice witch who had unknowingly captured his heart. Terror had filled his veins, ice cold fear chilling him to the bone, when he had seen her plummet to the ground from the alcove that had been chosen for her to perform the needed spell; figuring the out of the way location would be safe. Thankfully, Wesley’s hopes had soared when he witnessed her crawl away from the bedlam in the main room and huddle in a nearby corner. Finally, he was with Fred and after a quick search for injuries, he was amazed that she had escaped the fall with only a few scrapes and bumps. Wrapping his arms around the trembling waif, Wesley placed a kiss to the crown of her head; crouched down in the darkened nook together they prayed for a miracle. 

Across the room, Angel and Gunn fought together, figuring there was strength in numbers. However, what they hadn’t counted on was the fact that the vampires in the room outnumbered the humans by at least five to one. Keeping their backs to the wall, they fought off the demons one by one; dusting as many as they could and severely injuring the ones that they couldn’t by using the short bladed swords Rupert had provided them with. Mercilessly, they tore throw droves of mindless minions, scattering their ashes to the ground to mingle with the puddles of borrowed blood that seeped from their injured bodies.

Armed with an antique mace, Rupert swarmed the masses, mutilating the lumbering demons with the spiked weapon in attempts of slowing them down. At this point, it was imperative to burst through front line of vampires and assist Spike in stopping the sacrifice; making sure that the portal was never opened and remained nothing but a chalk outline on the floor. With an animalistic roar, he plowed through his attackers, taking out chunks of their cold flesh and splattering the surroundings with garish bloody markings. Feeling more alive than he had in years, the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on the former Watcher as the possibility of death and end of the world loomed in the immediate future. 

Pushing past the minions, Spike stalked across the room towards his intended target…Willow. Standing on the opposite side of the altar where her willing sacrifice was laid out dressed in ceremonial clothing, her black robe and flame red hair flowed around her body contrasted sharply against her surroundings. Noticing Spike for the first time, her lip curled in a vicious snarl as she pushed away from the marble slab and headed in his direction. Squaring up for the fight, Spike reared back with the scythe and sarcastically announced, “So sorry to ruin your lil’ party.”

“How nice of you to come out and play with us tonight, Slayer…I was wondering if you would be at my tea party, but no crumpets for you, naughty boy. It’s very rude to show up late!” Willow replied with a smile as she clapped her hands together with the glee of a young child who was about to open her birthday presents. “You’re too late, don’t you see? Silly boy jumping in to save the world when there’s nothing left to save. Gumdrops and roses won’t make me happy, only the present of blood will suffice. I’ll bathe in the wine and dance in the moonlight while my new Mommy rips your friends to pieces!”

“You’re off your nutter, crazy bint.” Spike remarked, fully understanding for the first time that Buffy had been completely honest about the mental stability of her sire. As the loony vampire twirled in her spot, glee written all over her face, he charged and was rewarded with a knife to the side. As the pain seared through his body, Spike realized that while the petite vampire might be legally insane, she was still a ferocious fighter and would be harder to take down than he had originally thought. Pushing aside the pain, he struck back with the scythe, but failed to connect in the correct location and only managed to graze her velvet dress across the middle. 

With feline grace, she attacked; fangs and talons bared, Willow growled in frustration as her attempts were blocked. Growling, she tackled the Slayer, momentarily stunning them both and she smiled triumphantly as the Slayer’s precious weapon clattered to the floor and out of arms reach. “Aw, poor little Slayer lost his trusty weapon…sucks to be you!”

“Not bloody likely, bitch!’ Spike growled as he used his legs to toss the snarling vampire off to the side, giving him just enough space to regain his footing. “Don’t need that to take you down.” Striking out, he punched Willow square in the face and said, “Got plenty of stakes for that!” Seemingly pulling out said object out of thin air, he slammed it into her chest and waited for her to dust. Sadly, she had flinched just before impact and had managed to take the sliver of wood just above the right breast, just shy of the heart. Amazed, all he could do was glare at the smiling bitch as she smugly pulled the object from her chest and tossed it to the ground. “Fuck.” He muttered, jumping back into the fight with a solid kick to the side of her head. Momentarily stunning her, Spike followed up with a punch to the face and smiled at the satisfying sound of crunching bone. Circling the bloodied, growling vamp, they danced together as he slowly made his way towards the scythe.

Focused intently on the fight between her sire and lover, Buffy barely noticed as Faith slid from the table and into the floor. Turning her head back to the altar, she cursed and sprinted forward; effectively slicing off the head of an approaching vampire. “Faith?” She hollered as she searched the candle lit area for signs of life. When the brunette stood up from behind the marble slab, Buffy cringed at the expression on her face; seething hatred mixed with the heartbreaking tears of a jilted lover. Their eyes locked and everything around them drowned out, the clink of blades striking their targets, flesh hitting flesh and the cries of war no longer apparent, leaving behind a standoff between two former lovers.

Suddenly, Faith’s hand shot out and Buffy watched in horror as she plucked the ceremonial dagger from the marble slab and held it threateningly against her chest. From the corner of her eye she could see that Spike was still very much entangled in a vicious struggle with Willow and obviously hadn’t noticed the looming danger that Faith was now presenting the with. Laying down her sword, she held her hands up in surrender to show the trembling brunette that she wasn’t going to harm her. “Don’t…please, Faith…just put the knife down.” She begged; her voice shaking with fear as her previous lover stepped into the center of the chalk drawn pentagram on the dusty floor. “You don’t have to do this, please think about what you’re about to do…to cause.” Cautiously, she took a step forward, planning on rushing Faith before she had a chance to draw blood, but was forced to a halt by the sight of blood seeping through the white silken material above her heart. 

“Why should I, B? Huh? Come on; give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t just end it all right now?” Faith growled out in anger. “Like you even fucking care what happens to me…you’re too damned busy with him to want me anymore! God, he kills your kind and yet…you’re still with him. Is that all I needed to have done to get you to love me?” Her voice quaked with emotion as she eased back onto the center most spot on the drawing and waited for the answer she so desperately craved; her heart breaking into millions of pieces when she realized it would never come.

“Faith, I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.” Buffy whispered sadly. “I can’t take your life, that’s not the answer to your life that you think you need. I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but you deserve better than what I can give you. Dying can’t…no, it won’t fill that hole inside yourself and neither will being with me, not when you deserve to be with someone that loves you.”

“Oh, that’s rich! Like you love him?!” She shrieked, pressing the blade harder against the supple flesh of her chest; warmth seeped down her skin, past her quivering stomach and into the braided silver band cinched around her waist. Shaking her head with despair, Faith realized with one final look deep into Buffy’s eyes that she would never be granted her wish; that an eternity with her love would never be fulfilled. Laughing bitterly, a sadistic smile spread across her face as her decision was made. “Guess I’m gonna have to go with an old saying, B. ‘Course you know I was always fond of the dramatics! If I can’t have you…no one else can.” 

“Faith! No!” Buffy shouted. Time seemed to slow as the erratic female ceremoniously blew a kiss in the direction of her former lover; Buffy propelled herself forward with unnatural speed, but still wasn’t fast enough as the blade disappeared into Faith’s heart and blood poured forth from the self inflicted wound. “NO!” Buffy shouted as Faith sank to the floor. 

Intensely immersed in the fight with Willow, Spike scarcely heard the confrontation between Buffy and Faith. The sounds of their voices had filtered in on occasion, but his interests had lain elsewhere and now they were all going to suffer because of it.   
However, as soon as the first drop of blood hit the diagram, a low level rumbling filled the makeshift temple and captured his attention. Turning his head for a brief second, his shoulders sank with realization and terror coursed through his veins when he saw Faith tumble to the ground; dagger firmly planted in her chest and a bright bloom of blood staining the silken gown she had adorned for the ceremony. 

As the sacrificial being laid motionless, slowly bleeding to death, Willow rejoiced in her success and used the diversion to escape from her struggle with the Slayer. Slinking into the shadows, the redheaded vampire slipped away unnoticed and scampered away from danger; sadistically pleased with the outcome of the night’s events.

Chaos became more prevalent as Faith’s blood pooled around her fallen body and seeped into the chalk markings on the ground. Walls crumbled and the floor cracked, screams from the rooms occupants combined with the breakage and filled the room with thunderous noise. Remaining vamps scattered like cockroaches, leaving the only the so called heroes standing helplessly in the apex of the pandemonium. Spike, however, paid them no notice.

His mind was filled with a haze, foggy with delusion as if the past hour had been spent drinking instead of fighting for the safety of the world. Spike struggled mentally, brow marred with confusion, as he desperately tried to make sense of the world around him. The darkened temple shook as the end of the world slowly approached, candles clattered to the ground, spilling their hot wax across the dust covered floor and pebbles from the crumbling walls joined into the mix. None of this mattered to Spike as he stood motionless in the center of the breaking room, for his attentions were focused solely on his love. He could sense her presence as the space between them grew smaller, her shape growing clearer with each step and finally she was within grasp. Reaching out, Spike enveloped Buffy in his shaking arms, their gaze never faltered and he felt safe as he stared into her golden eyes. His mind never registered the danger, not even when presented with her demon visage; which was why his azure orbs twinkled with moisture as her fangs sank deep into his neck. 

“Buffy?” Spike whispered hoarsely, his hands grasping fruitlessly at her arms in a futile attempt to stop the attack. Clutching the cold flesh of her biceps, he dug his nails deeply into her arms and felt rivulets of blood seep down his shaking fingers. Her grasp on his rapidly weakening body strengthened as his powerful blood filled her veins and Spike’s legs dangled lifelessly when she lifted him from the ground. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he slipped from her strengthened hold, his body drooped as she lowered him to the ground. Lying prone on the cold stone floor, he forced his eyes partially open and gazed up at the vampire and uttered one final word before slipping into unconsciousness, “Why?”


	32. Chapter 32

For a brief moment, time stood still as Faith’s body laid motionless in the center of the diagram. Frozen with shock, Buffy’s body refused to move forward and her eyes were wide open as she stared at the pooling crimson blood seeping from the fallen girl. “Oh, God…no.” She whispered, her words spoken too softly for anyone else to hear, as the realization of what was to come sank in. Lifting her head, she averted her liquid filled eyes from her departed former lover to the spot where Spike was located; warrior stance still firmly in place and the mystical scythe forged especially for him grasped tightly in his hands.

It seemed as though the moment their gazes connected the world began to fall apart. The worn floor rumbled and churned with ferocity beneath their feet, plaster and paint crumbled to the ground as the cement block walls shook violently. From the apex of the room, where Faith’s lifeless body was now drained of blood, the floor beneath her undulated with the pressure from the opening portal and small pieces of the chalk outline crumbled and fell into the abyss below. Suddenly, intense bursts of light shone through the cracks in the floor, illuminating the ceiling above as the center of the floor began to give way. 

Knowing that time was running out, Buffy mustered up the courage to do what had to be done. Gazing intently at Spike, she kept eye contact with the confused Slayer and carefully crept towards him. On the outside, her face was a calm mask of resolution, but on the inside her heart was breaking and quivering with terror and anxiety. Somehow, she managed to put one foot in front of the other with a determined pace until finally she was in his arms. Strong and capable, his embrace was comforting and for a moment she allowed her mind to wander into a delusional place of safety; that the world was no longer crumbling away and they were protected in one another’s arms.

With tears falling freely, spilling over her cheeks with audible sobs of distress wracking her tiny frame, Buffy broke eye contact with Spike and buried her fangs deeply into his neck. Her demon soared with delight as the first wave of potent blood flowed into her mouth and slipped deliciously down her throat, but rebelled at the thought of killing the person it considered to be its mate. Quickly, she drank and filled her body with his blood, only stopping as his heart slowed to a near death pace.

Crying in earnest, her heart cracked as Spike’s weakened body stilled in her arms, his whispered pleas of wonderment resounded in her ears as she carefully lowered him to the floor. Leaning over, cold tears slipped from her cheeks and landed softly against his paling face as she covered his lush lips with a bloodstained kiss of goodbye. "I'm sorry, my love."

Standing up, Buffy wiped her face before turning around in search of the others and was not surprised when face with angry glares and raised weapons. “You knew it would have to be done, Watcher.” She stated; her watery eyes trained on the only person in the room that wasn’t fuming with hatred towards her. With sad eyes, the grief stricken Watcher glanced towards his fallen Slayer and nodded his head in Buffy’s direction; a silent acknowledgement to her words. “Just make sure he knows, ok?” She choked out before turning on one heel to face the almost fully open portal. 

Without a single glance backwards, Buffy darted forward towards her target; the Slayer’s blood sang inside her veins, humming along at an alarming swift pace as its mystical powers fueled her body with accentuated power. Blindingly fast, she catapulted over the ceremonial alter, barely placing one foot on the crackling marble as she bounded over it to the desired destination. With her arms spread out to each side, she sprang forward in a swan dive; falling gracefully into the swirling gateway.

As soon as her body disappeared into the radiating light, there was an audible pop and suddenly…the destruction stopped. In an instant, the deteriorating room was filled with an eerily calm silence; the room no longer resonating with the booming sounds of obliteration. Stunned by the change in events, the seven warriors who remained standing stood in shock.

Jumping to attention, Rupert pushed past Wesley, who had been holding him back since Buffy’s attack on Spike. Kneeling next to his son, he checked for a pulse and felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders as relief soared through his body when presented with a faint pulse. Standing up, he instantly began barking orders, “Angel. Gunn, both of you take Spike to the hospital immediately. Girls, why don’t you go with them? I need to discuss something with Wesley and deal with cleaning up the evidence of what happened tonight.”

As soon as the others disappeared from his sight, Rupert turned towards Wesley with a grim stare. Before the words that were on the tip of his tongue could tumble out, the ashen Watcher held up his hand and resolutely stated, “It had to been done, Rupert. You and I both know it, we knew there was chance that tonight would come to this, but for now…we have work to do.” Without waiting for a response, Wesley headed towards the center of the room and prepared for the final stage; a silenced Rupert following in his wake.

Hours passed excruciatingly slow as they waited for Spike to wake. As the minutes ticked away sluggishly, the days melted into nights until a week had passed and still no response from their fallen leader. Eventually, they all had to return to their normal lives; disappearing to their respective homes, jobs and classes. One by one they trickled in to visit once a day for a quick visit and update, with only Rupert spending his nights there holed up in the darkened room with his motionless son and the ever present sounds of the hospital. 

It was on one dark and stormy night two weeks after the dreadful fight that Rupert was jarred from a fitful sleep by the shrill sound of an alarm. Jolted out of the appalling chair that he had called home for so many nights, he was in the midst of gathering his wits just as two nurses barreled into the room; pushing him aside as they tended to their ward. Suddenly, the room was awash with blinding bright luminosity as the overhead light was switched one; blinking furiously, Rupert searched for his glasses and was knocked aside as the doctor bustled into the room. Confused and more than a little bit irritated, Rupert settled the glasses on his nose and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the most wonderful sound in the world.

“Dad?” Spike croaked; his throat dry and scratchy from days of nonuse. Peering around the medical staff, avoiding their incessant pokes and questions, he held out his hand towards his sniffling father and motioned for him to come over. 

“Mr. Giles, I think it’d be best if you step outside for a moment.” Dr. Bartlett advised, motioning for Rupert to leave. “We need to assess your son’s condition…”

“No, I need to talk to my father…you can bloody well poke and prod me as much as you want, but afterwards.” Spike growled as he attempted to pull himself upwards to a sitting position, but failed miserably as his weakened body refused to cooperate. When the doctor opened his mouth to protest, Spike snarled in his direction and said, “Sod off!”

“William, that’s enough. There’s no sense in being rude, they’ve done quite enough taking care of you and I think you could at least show some respect.” Giles’s advised, as he stepped aside to let the doctor resume his place near the bed. “Now, I’m going to make some phone calls and let everyone know you’re awake while the doctor makes sure everything is quite all right with you.” 

Confused and overwhelmed by the despairing sense of bitterness and betrayal, he sighed in defeat and nodded towards his father. “Whatever, I’ll play the prodigal patient…Just as long as you’re ready to explain things to me when you get back.”

“Of course, son.” Rupert conceded as he disappeared into the hallway. Leaning against the cool tile wall, he closed his weary eyes and muttered, “So long as someone bloody well explains it to me.” Sighing, he pushed off the wall and headed down the hallway towards the nurse’s station to begin the lengthy process of advising everyone of Spike’s latest status.

Half an hour later, after numerous calls and a report from the doctor, Rupert let himself back into Spike’s room, pleased to find his son had been maneuvered into a reclined position and resting. “Well, I hear you’re expected to make a full recovery.”

“Quit stalling, Dad.” Spike replied harshly, his eyes blazing with hurt and uncertainty. “How in the hell are we still here? What happened back there? Why…why did she…God, Buffy?!” Sobs wracked his body as he desperately tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. 

Perching on the edge of his bed, Rupert reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope. “There were things that happened that night that you weren’t aware of…information that we had found out prior to the ceremony…that we kept from everyone, really. We thought it was for the best, Spike. You see, Andrew found an ancient text that mentioned the only way to close the portal would be if the Slayer’s blood passed over the threshold, which would have meant your death. When Buffy found out, she concocted this harebrained strategy for her to take you place if the need arose. I, of course, refused to accept her plan or the entire possibility that there might be a chance that we would have to resort to such…drastic measures.” Glancing down at the lilac paper in his shaking hands, he sighed as he laid it in his son’s lap. “She left this for you; I found it on your pillow in the bedroom the next afternoon. She must have intended to go against our wishes from the beginning. Anyway, here…you should read this first, I’m sure you’ll have more questions afterwards.” Standing up, Rupert handed Spike the letter and headed towards the door. “I was wrong about her, son. She truly loved you and I was too blinded by hate to see that. I am sorry for your loss.”

Rupert stared at his son, the saddened expression on his handsome face, the defeat and despair that shaped his existence as he slumped in the bed with the envelope clutched in his hands. As he exited into the deserted hallway, Buffy’s words filled his mind and soul and he knew that his actions towards her would haunt him mercilessly. Sliding down into a nearby chair, he let his head fall forward into awaiting hands as he thought back to the night of Andrew’s discovery.

“Absolutely not! What you’re saying is completely preposterous and I’ll have nothing to do with it!” He had shouted when presented with the research. “This is just her insane attempt to pay a hand in my son’s death! Why can’t you see that, Wesley?!”

“I love Spike, and if you can’t see that…then you’re just an idiot! If I wanted him dead, then I would have done it back in the alley years ago when he was practically begging for it!” Buffy had shouted, jumping up with such force that the wooden chair she had been perched upon had clattered backwards. “Are you so willing to prove me wrong that you’ll let your son die? Force him to sacrifice himself to save the world when I am more than willing to do it for him?! What’s wrong with you?”

“And just how do you propose you step in for him? It’s not like you can just assume the role of Slayer?” He asked, turning on the approaching vampire.

“It’s not his body that makes him what he is; it’s his blood that holds his power…the key. It’s always about blood.” Buffy stated, hands on her hips. “If you’ll just sit down, we’ll explain it one more time. Don’t let your hatred for me let your son die.” 

Back inside the room, Spike gave in, tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. With slouched shoulders and tears on his face, he began to read the final note from the woman who had sacrificed herself to save him.

 

_My Dearest William,_

_If you’re reading this letter, then that means our plans have been shot to hell and I am gone. I hope your father has taken the time to explain what happened tonight, that you aren’t sitting in a bed thinking that I stabbed you in the back and most importantly, that you can forgive me someday._

_I know that going behind your back was wrong, but you would have refused to accept my plan because that’s your nature. You are the Slayer and it’s your duty to protect the innocent and be all high and mighty, and very stubborn. I couldn’t sit by and think that it would be because of your death that the world as we know it remained unharmed._

_No matter how much I love you, how much just being with you overt the past couple of weeks made my miserable existence worthwhile. You deserve to have a normal life. You deserve to have sunlight and happiness, a life with picket fences and children and not in the shadows with death, the only life I could give you._

_You are my light, my existence, my savior. I love you with all that I have, with all that I am. Please, I hope one day you will be able to forgive me for my deceit. I love you and will always remember you._

_With all my heart,_   
_Buffy_


	33. Chapter 33

Later that afternoon, after numerous tests that left Spike feeling like a pin cushion, he was finally allowed to have visitors outside of his one family member. Perched on what he was now referring to as his bed-shaped prison, Spike had just finished grimly informing his friends of what his father had informed him that morning.

“Ok, lemme see if I’ve got it right.” Angel started slowly, his hand held out to tick off the list with his fingers. “Either Willow or one of her minions stole the stuff from Wesley’s apartment because it was found near the alter; your Dad burned the whole place to the ground to cover up what happened and Buffy drank your blood and did a swan dive into the portal to save the world and is now trapped in a hell dimension to be punished for all eternity. That about cover everything?”

“In a nutshell.” Spike replied dryly, “Dad and Wesley figured that it’d be best all around to get rid of any evidence.”

“But what about Faith’s family? Don’t you think they’d want to bury her or something?” “I mean, shouldn’t we have contacted someone?” Fred interjected nervously, tilting her head downwards to avoid the glares from her friends. She felt bad that Faith was left to burn in an abandoned warehouse and not properly buried. Sometimes she hated being the only female present because it seemed like she was the only one that was sympathetic towards other people. Generally, Spike rescued her when she felt like this, knowing she felt awkward in situations such as this. Peering up at him through a thick layer of brunette locks, tears pricked her eyes as she took in the look of utter hatred and anger that radiated from him.

“From what little Buffy told me about Faith, she didn’t have anyone…other than Buffy. Which explains why she was so obsessed and refused to let go, yeah?” Shrugging his shoulders, Spike poked at the unidentifiable meat on his dinner tray before pushing it aside. “Might be a bit coldhearted, but the chit got exactly what she deserved. Hope every bleeding second that she laid on that pentagram was sheer pain for her.”

“I’m with you man.” Gunn announced, he’d been unusually quite throughout the entire conversation not knowing exactly what to say about the whole ordeal, but he shared Spike’s feelings on the outcome. “Hell, if she’d never come along then we’d never been in this mess.”

“Willow would have just found someone else, Charles, don’t you think? She was way more determined than Faith.” Fred argued even though she knew it was useless. The boys had found their scapegoat and were off and running with it. Leaning back in her seat, Fred halfway listened to Angel and Gunn bicker about last night’s events and focused her attention on Spike, who had slumped further down in his bed with a dejected look on his face. 

After several minutes, she noticed that Spike’s demeanor had went from one of emotional pain to that of physical pain, making a quick decision she spoke up, “Wow, we’ve gone way past visiting hours, wonder why the nurse hasn’t kicked us out yet? We should probably go before we get in trouble.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Fred.” Angel agreed after catching the pointed look the petite brunette passed his way. Looking back at Spike, he too noticed the Spike’s complexion was paler than usually and briefly wondered how that was possible since the Brit was never famous for spending much time in the sun. Chalking it up to stress, he stood up from his spot on the bed and said, “We’ll come back in the morning, ok?”

Goodbyes were given all around before the trio slipped quietly out the door and ambled down the hallway towards the elevator. Just before stepping inside, Fred realized something. “I forgot my purse! You guys go on ahead, ok?” Jumping off the elevator before her two towering companions could object, Fred took off in gallop towards Spike’s room. 

Gently easing the door open, she cautiously poked her head inside before entering, “Spike? I forgot my purse.” Not hearing a response, she figured he’d fallen asleep and quietly slipped into the room totally unprepared for what it held inside. Laying in a ball, the strongest male figure in her life was sobbing his heart out; a sight that she’d never seen before. Sure, his eyes had glistened over on more than one occasion, but this complete emotional breakdown was a shock to Fred’s system. Instantly kicking into mother hen mode, she rushed to the bed and pulled him into her arms. 

Nothing was said while Spike cried; there was silence in the room other than the brokenhearted sobs that echoed in the alabaster room and Fred’s heart wrenched at the sound. With a feather light caress, she stroked his disheveled locks and waited for the tears to stop. Noticing movement from the corner of her eye, she looked over and saw that Angel had reappeared, no doubt in search of her. Shaking her head slightly, Fred sent him away and prepared to spend the night taking care of Spike.

A hour and a half later, Spike’s tears finally slowed down and he spoke. “She didn’t even give me the chance to change things…I could have figured out a way to stop it. To do something else! Why…why didn’t she come to me?”

Wiping her own eyes, Fred pushed away the moisture that had seeped out and were clinging to her eyelashes. “I guess because she knew you’d step in, Spike…that you’d take over and end up being the one to die. I’d have done the same thing for someone I loved, risk my life over theirs. That’s just what you do.

“You know, I was wrong about Buffy. I just always saw her as the girl who stole you from me, that ruined my chances. It wasn’t like that at all, was it? She really loved you, Spike. Which is astounding in itself, since she was supposed to be evil and all…I mean, your love changed her.” Sniffling, she paused briefly to swipe her arm across her face again and took a calming breath. “She sacrificed herself to save you, to give you life. She really was kinda great and I never took the chance to get to know her.”

“But how’d she expect me to just live my life knowing that because of me she’s suffering now? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” Spike sobbed, slipping further down in Fred’s embrace until his head was resting on her stomach. “I miss her so much, Fred.”

Helplessly, Fred listened to Spike’s whispered sobs as he poured out his heart, knowing that there was nothing more that she could do to ease his pain. Holding him in her arms, she closed her eyes and waited for the next break in his tears.

The sun was creeping in through the blinds when Spike stirred in her arms and roused her out of a restless sleep. Scrubbing her face with her hands, Fred looked down at her friend who was doing the same in attempts to wipe away the tears that now stained his cheeks.   
“Good morning.”

“Morning, sweets.” He replied sheepishly, embarrassed that his emotions had bubbled to the surface and spilled over onto Fred. “Um…thanks for last night.”

“Your welcome, but its part of the friendship package; thus I am required to be there in times of need.” Fred replied jokingly, trying to lighten the mood since she was well award of Spike’s discomfort. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a sodding truck ran over my head, actually. Don’t think I’ve cried that since my Mum died.” He admitted, figuring she’d already seen him at his worst so he might as well confess everything. Picking at a piece of imaginary lint on the sheet, he whispered, “When will it get better?”

Instantly saddened by Spike’s question, Fred reached out and pulled him close again. “Soon, I promise. Eventually it won’t hurt so badly.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Weeks passed and contrary to Fred’s promise, the pain never faltered. Instead, it festered in his veins, churning and coiling in his stomach like acid until all that remained was a shell of a man fueled by anger and hatred. Withdrawn and sullen, Spike shied away from his friends and family; opting to spend his time in the bottom of a bottle. Every night, he somehow found his way to the seedier side of town in Willy’s, drinking amongst his sworn enemy instead of killing them. He knew that his actions were hurting those that he loved, but he just couldn’t bring himself far enough out of the pit of despair to care about it anymore. At this point, he was just going through the motions of life and numbing the pain that resided in his heart.

Slamming the empty glass down on the bar, he announced with a pronounced slur, “Willy, another one.”

“I…I don’t know…maybe you’ve had enough, ya know…call it a night.” Willy stammered, wringing his hands nervously as Spike glared at him. “Come on, Slayer…you’re making the other customers nervous.”

“Don’t bloody care about them, Willy. I could just kill them all and you wouldn’t have to worry about sodding their feelings.” Spike growled, pushing the glass further down the bar towards the rat-like bar owner. “Or, you could refill my fucking glass. ‘s your choice, Willy.”

“Ok, Slayer...no need to make threats. We’re all friends here, right?” Willy jumped to attention, grabbed the fifth of whiskey and placed it in front of Spike. “Here you go, on the house. We’re good, right?”

“Bugger off.” Spike snarled as he eagerly snatched up the liquor bottle and lifted it to his mouth for a long drink. Wincing slightly as the alcohol burned its way down into his belly, he wiped his hand across his mouth to catch the droplets that lingered on his lips. Taking another chug, he caught the sight of someone settling on the bar stool to his left and turned his head to find what appeared to be a very attractive brunette staring at him expectedly. “What do you want?”

“You looked like you needed someone to talk to, figured I’d offer my services.” She replied with a sultry voice that was perfectly fitting of her curvaceous figure and full lips.

“Yeah, well…you’re wrong. I’m not in need of any services, now sod off.” Cocking an eyebrow at the woman, he turned his attentions back to the bottle and took another swallow as if his life depended on it. When he was done, he noticed she was still there and said, “What are you, daft? I said piss off!”

Softening her tone, she leaned in and said, “I’m just offering a shoulder to lean on, Slayer. Nothing more, I promise. I saw you and thought you might want to talk. You know, we all heard what happened with Buffy.” A few seconds went by and for a brief moment she thought he might kick her to the curb, but finally his shoulders drop and realized he was giving in.

Spike had no idea what came over him, one minute he’s telling her to go away and the next second, he’s overcome with the need to spill his guts to someone he’d never met. Refusing to let the tears in his eyes spill in front of all the demons in the bar, he let his anger rise to the surface and control of his words. After ten minutes of ranting and raving, his final comments were, “I mean, who the sodding hell do the Powers That bloody Be think they are?! I fucking fight the good fight every night…give up my life for a sacred calling and they…they screw me over every bleeding chance they get! ‘s not right, I tell you! Should just quit all together and see what they’d do then.”

“But, you wouldn’t do that, right? It’d go against your nature. Hello?! You’re the chosen one; you might try to live a normal life, but do you really think you could? Seriously.” Pausing for a second, she left that information sink in before asking, “What if things could be different? What if you could make this Willow chick suffer for what the pain she’s caused you or something like that, would you do it? What would you wish for if you were given the chance?” Eagerly anticipating Spike’s answer she waited patiently; mentally preparing herself for all the glorious, gruesome things she could inflict on the vampire. 

“S not like it’d bloody well happen, right?” Shrugging his shoulders, Spike tilted the bottle back to drain the last of the amber liquid before pushing away from the bar. Tossing down a crumpled wad of cash on the bar, he turned to the woman and said, “I’d wish that Buffy was alive.” Sighing, he nodded his head in goodbye and stormed out of the bar in a swirl of black leather.

As she watched him disappear from the bar, she wrapped one hand around the jade amulet that dangled between her breasts and whispered two words.

“Wish Granted.”


End file.
